


Chasing the Storm

by thorduna



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Arranged Marriage, Complete, Dry Humping, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Imperialism, Jötunn Loki, King Thor, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Tension, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000, Wordcount: Over 50.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:34:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 60,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorduna/pseuds/thorduna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now complete!</p><p>Thor's rule has been peaceful, but he is mindful of the duties Asgard has towards other realms and takes steps to ensure the safety of every child of Yggdrasil, even when he feels doubt about the changes he will have to endure for it. The young Jotun prince Loki meanwhile is quite pleased to be finally able to discover worlds beyond the walls of the palace where he was born. Their expectations and views clash from the moment they meet, but that doesn't stop them from beginning a journey towards shared happiness... until an old enemy resurfaces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> So, after two years in the thorki fandom it looks like it's my time for arranged marriage Jotun AU. It's my second arranged marriage fic in general though... yeah, I have a problem, but hey, if I like writing it, it means I'm going to finish it. I have changed several things about the history/universe, but they will be explained clearly I hope. Also, there is a mention of mpreg being possible, but for now I don't plan to to include it in this story.
> 
> This work is now finished and the tags I used above are somewhat chronological, aka you can expect the last ones only at the very end.
> 
> The first chapters are not betad and I apologize for any mistakes and awkwardness, it should however get better with the help of my saviour Mona.

The chambers of the king of Asgard were in an unusual disarray. The builders and mages, called to work hand in hand to give the new rooms shape and strength (for only the poorest shacks could be built without the use of mages' technology in Asgard) now gave way to carpenters and quilters who scrambled to furnish the many rooms with the best they had to offer.

 

For the most part, the men and women charged with this task worked with confidence born from their experience. But there were questions they needed to ask. What colours to use? Should a nursery be built right away as well?

 

And the questions were answered on discreet slips of paper, brought to the foremen. Sometimes they were written in tiny, elegant cursive, sometimes in a slightly bigger, stiffer script. The king and his mother were both personally invested in the renovation.

 

The king's colours would remain red and grey. His betrothed's colour was green, but the queen suggested that it be used subtly and with a rainbow of blues and aquas accompanying it. The shared spaces should be golden and brown, neutral and soothing.

 

And there would be no nursery for the time being.

 

The king himself was in another part of the palace, in one of the many war chambers that were used for council meetings, private audiences of the royal family and generally any work concerning the kingdom. He regarded his private study as a place of solace, despite the work – and especially paperwork – he usually did there. Now it was nearly as messy as the chambers being prepared at the other side of the palace, but he wouldn't know that, since he hasn't entered those in several days. The large desk at which he was seated was covered in letters and documents and a few books were scattered across the surface as well. Those were mostly to assure Thor that by marrying a man, he would not be ridding himself of the possibility of having an heir. That there were safe ways. And he learned that there certainly were, rituals and spells crafted so that even lovers who could not produce a child as was typically done could reach the familial fulfilment if they so wished.

 

It should have been a relief, but Thor discovered the knowledge rather made him anxious. It was one less reason why not go through with this marriage.

 

But that was of course nonsense. He was the one who crafted the plan, who invited the peace-treating party from Jotunheim and who made hints that such a proposition would be welcome from the king of Jotunheim.

 

King of Jotunheim, a precarious title, one that many believed Laufey didn't have the right to use.

 

Thor got up; the room was hot and felt stuffy. A fire was burning high in the hearth, perhaps too high and Thor opened the balcony door and stepped out, greeted with a gust of cold air. Leaning against the railing, he let himself enjoy the sight of Asgard at night, the glowing lights of torches and lanterns tinting the world in orange hues, reflected in the snow that lay on almost every surface. His heart swelled with pride as he gazed at the prospering, golden city. For two hundred years he ruled this realm and strived to protect the others and, in words of one old soldier that Thor met in a tavern and who didn't recognize him, he didn't cock it up yet.

 

“You should get some rest. It's a big day tomorrow.”

 

Thor turned to Frigga, smiling. He had heard her approach, but simply let the whispering of her skirts wash over him, another soothing agent in the moment of peace he was trying to grant himself.

 

“Mother,” he inclined his head and then took her hands in his, kissing them lightly.

 

“Oh darling, you are worrying yourself, aren't you?”

 

They sat down on a bench that was sheltered from the weather at the far end of the balcony together, and Thor shrugged.

 

“I am... I worry for what this choice will bring. To Asgard, to Jotunheim... ” he trailed off and took a deep breath before continuing. “And to me.”

 

“And to your husband.”

 

“Yes,” Thor laughed, but it was not a happy sound. “To my young, young husband.”

 

“Is that what weights on you?” Frigga sounded surprised and that in turn surprised Thor. Often he thought she knew what he felt or thought before he himself knew it.

 

“Among other things, of course.”

 

“Is that why you said there was to be no nursery?”

 

“Yes. It could be centuries before we even consider a child.”

 

“You seem to have many preconceptions about your husband even though you've never met him,” Frigga noted and Thor knew that even though her words and her tone were soft, there was reprimand in them. “And you are making decisions that concern you both without giving him the chance to speak his mind.”

 

Thor got up from the bench, returning to the railing and looking down. It was impolite to turn his back on his mother like that, but he found he was too tired to care.

 

“I know of his age. I know of his station. I'm sure he will appreciate this.”

 

He could tell that she was unhappy with his response, but she pressed no further, sensing how on edge he was.

 

“I'm sure tomorrow will make things much clearer and hopefully happier as well. There is no more for you to do today, so forget your worries.”

 

She parted with his with a kiss on the forehead, standing up on her toes while Thor bent down, a smile playing on his lips as a bit of the tension left him thanks to her gentle gesture. Then he did as she bid him and retired to his temporary chambers, willing the sleep to come.

 

* * *

 

 

Loki had mastered slipping into the throne room unseen and unheard many years ago, but today he was especially careful as it mattered to him more than usual to hear what was being said behind the closed doors. Nobody was present but his father and mother. Laufey abandoned sitting on the high throne in favour of slow pacing across the hall, while Farbauti sat still at the head of the long feasting table.

 

“He's prepared?” Laufey asked abruptly, breaking the tense silence that Loki observed. A small jolt ran through him. Not that he had doubted they would, but they were talking about him.

 

“As he will ever be.”

 

His mother's tone was sharp and unhappy.

 

He looked to her with a mixture of emotion swirling through him; love and admiration, yes, but he couldn't help feeling a stab of resentment. She was against his marriage to the king of Asgard. Loki could even understand why, but it still angered him. He gazed at her, sitting straight and tall, with long black hair that he inherited from her (and she in turn from her Vanir mother, who, Loki suspected, was the reason why Farbauti despised the idea of him leaving his birthplace for another realm) spilling across her back.

 

“He will be safer on Asgard that he could ever be here if things remained as they are. The Aesir's offer is our last and only option.”

 

“Safer,” Farbauti scoffed. “With the old king panting after him. Sending messengers enquiring after heirs eligible for marriage.”

 

“King _Thor_ ,” Laufey replied, putting force behind the words, “is not even two thousand years old.”

 

Then Laufey let the strict tone slip and his voice came out as a darker rumble. Unlike Farbauti, he wanted Loki to marry the king, but he had his own reservations.

 

“And I don't doubt his reasons for this proposal had nothing to do with Loki and everything to do with Jotunheim. You know the nature of these Aesir. They think the universe belongs to them. Theirs to _protect._ A fancy word for control and own.”

 

“If the Aesir hadn't protected Midgard, you would not be king now.”

 

More sharps words were said, but Loki tuned the argument out, playing distractedly with the hem of his tunic, crouched as he was in his hiding place; he knew well the old wound that haunted his father. He was not of royal blood and he became king after the War with the Aesir when the old king and all his heirs fell, seizing the power to keep the weakened realm from falling apart fully. But this Loki knew already; his heart was beating fast for another reason – finally he heard more about his future husband. His mother called him old, but Loki knew this was not true. All the messengers travelling between he realms and bringing back and forth the letters and documents that were necessary spoke of the king favourably – even if that was not their intention. But Loki could read between the lines. They called him pale and yellow and Loki knew that they really spoke of gold and beauty of different kind that the kind that could be seen on Jotunheim. They called him stiff and formal and Loki knew it meant dignified and strong. So he had already learned things about his future husband's looks and the way he presented himself, but now he snatched a very interesting piece of information: the proposal had been Thor's idea.

 

Loki slipped away, using the raised voices of his parents as cover. In his rooms, he was once again faced with the reality of tomorrow – trunks and packages were neatly stacked by the entrance, ready to be taken away. His stomach trembled and mostly it was with impatience and excitement, but fear crept in as well. He told himself it was natural. Such a big change had to bring some trepidation, no matter how much he wished for it. He climbed to his large bed, using the stool that helped him reached the height as usual and then he kicked it away with sudden surge of resentment. No more of this. Never again.


	2. Tournament

Thor was known to take protocol a bit lightly at the beginning of his reign, pleasing the people and angering the nobles. He liked to walk the streets of Asgard in simple clothing, talking to whoever wanted to speak to him, sitting in taverns, visiting farms and stables. He also trained with the soldiers and when he wrestled or sparred, he was not a king, he was simply another man with only his skill and strength to his name.

 

But this day and the couple next, he would not be lenient with himself nor any others. Welcoming a king on another kingdom's sovereign ground was tricky; many formalities had to be upheld to avoid offending the coming party. The visiting king could not be treated as someone at the other king's beck and call. Thor and a large party of nobles, council members and army officials (with Sif first and the Warriors Three behind her) waited at the Bifrost observatory and after formal welcomes and introductions, Thor and Laufey walked to the city and later the palace side by side to show their equality. Snowflakes were swirling through the air silently as it they were paying homage to the guests.

 

They did not speak much on the way and Thor appreciated having the time to digest the first meeting with his betrothed who was currently walking right behind him with his mother, Farbauti, who Thor knew to be half Jotun and half Vanir, though all she had to show for it was her long hair and soft, beautiful features of her face. Other than that, she was almost the same size as Laufey, towering at double Thor's height. Loki had the same black hair and very similar features, but he stood almost a whole head shorter than Thor. His limbs were proportioned though, slim and agile. Thor wasn't sure whether it was due to his age or if it was simply how he was, but it seemed to him the blue of Loki's skin was slightly darker than that of the other Jotuns, including his family.

 

The garb of the royal family of Jotunheim was mostly made from black leather that seemed very soft and luxurious; Thor had no idea from what animal the hide could be. They also wore something that might have been armour, but it might have been simply accessories, made from green stone, a jade perhaps. On Laufey, the majority could be found on his head, running from his forehead down to his neck in shapes that managed to be both harsh and elegant. His shoulders were covered in it, giving the appearance of horns or talons sprouting from his back. He wore trousers made from the leather that Thor noticed, but that was it. Farbauti was dressed more richly, wearing something that Thor might even call a dress with a corset, but the differences from Aesir's woman clothing were vast. The jade seemed to serve more as an accessory for her.

 

And then there was Loki. He wore leather trousers and a tunic as well, both pieces of clothing hugging his form tightly. The tunic had no sleeves and instead Loki's arms were covered with shapes made from the jade, Thor would call them vambraces, except they spanned across the whole length of Loki's arms, not just his forearms. A necklace of three thick gold chains hung from his neck and that was the only gold Thor saw on the royal family and all their companions. Loki's hair reached down to his shoulders and it was parted in the middle and held back by two braids that started at his temples and fell back behind his ears.

 

He was terribly lovely and terribly young.

 

He had seemed quite confident as he greeted Thor, speaking up with strong voice and that calmed Thor a little. With Laufey he had exchanged greetings that were, if not warm, at least earnest and he knew that the other king yearned for this alliance. Farbauti had been cold and he did not blame her. Of course she loved her son and didn't wish to be parted from him.

 

Frigga waited for them at the palace, welcoming the whole mixed party as the lady of the house. They all entered the throne room together, though Thor would not sit on Hlidskjalf until Laufey departed. Entering the throne room and being welcomed there was the final part of the formal ceremony and after that, the guests were offered refreshments and could shown their rooms if they wished before the feast would begin. Laufey nodded at the offer of rooms, but before leaving, he addressed Thor discreetly.

 

“The queen and I would like to speak with you first.”

 

Thor inclined his head. “Of course. This way.”

 

He led Laufey and Farbauti into a hall located behind the throne that was used for council meetings when the need for privacy arose and the matters could not be discussed in the throne room. The ceilings were high and the furniture steady, so Thor felt confident in bringing his guests there, but a sense of unease spread through him anyway. He wondered what they might have to say and why they rushed so.

 

Laufey did not keep in him suspense for too long.

 

“We have not met yet,” he said bluntly, looking down at Thor with an openly searching gaze. “And I find that a diplomatic circus of the sorts that surely awaits us here is not a good place for honesty and straightforwardness.”

 

Thor inclined his head lightly. “Let us speak freely now then.”

 

“We have an agreement on paper. Your marriage to my son will ensure Asgard's support of my house. You will return the Casket to me. I would hear the oath from your lips and not from the pens of your advisers.”

 

Thor considered Laufey for a moment, gazing up at the stern, scarred face. Then he looked over to Farbauti who stood with a cold expression, holding herself with her head high. A true queen, there was no doubt.

 

Laufey was a king – no matter how precarious his position was – so technically it could not be said he was impudent towards Thor, but his demands were certainly posed sharply. But underneath it, there was a sense of urgency and suspicion that Thor understood. There were many in Asgard who criticized his decision to marry a Jotun, especially when it almost meant returning a relic of great power to Asgard's old enemies. Those who doubted asked _why_. And Thor supposed that perhaps Laufey was asking the same question. The marriage did seem to favour Jotunheim more than Asgard – and that might even be true, in the eyes of a politician.

 

Thor had watched the happenings on Jotunheim for decades, spending hours on Hlidskjalf. He observed first in silence, then he began seeking out Heimdall to get the gatekeeper's insight. And Heimdall knew – had seen – the lost glory of Jotunheim. And Heimdall could also see, truly see, Yggdrasil and he taught Thor everything about it. And slowly, as he watched the cold, dark realm fall into unrest, with groups of rogue warriors plundering villages while in the capital, nobles whispered treason to each other's ears, he felt less like a king of one realm, who should be pleased to see enemy kingdom weakened and more like a gardener or perhaps a care-taker whose duty it was to care for all the branches of the world tree and who could not stand idly by as one branch starved and rotted.

 

He did not attempt to explain this to anyone but Heimdall and Frigga. He was well aware that making such a big decision based on mysticism and not politics would provoke loud disagreement. Had his Father done it, it would not be so. But Thor's journey towards ruling as a true king and not just a warrior had been private.

 

“This is what was agreed on,” he said calmly to Laufey. “I will marry Loki and return the Casket to your hands to seal our alliance. I would see the realms at peace, I swear this.”

 

Laufey and Farbauti shared a look then and Thor thought he glimpsed a sparkle of triumph in Laufey's eyes when he looked at his wife. Thor didn't attempt to decipher what transpired between them, but then Farbauti spoke to him.

 

“I would hear some assurances from you as well, Thor of Asgard.”

 

He did not ask her to clarify.

 

“Your son will be safe and well cared for, you have my word. I understand from earlier correspondence that he has inclinations to magic and studying. There are many scholars who will be able to offer him education.”

 

Farbauti sighed and approached Thor, bending to look him carefully in the face. “That is pleasing. I know my son and I know he yearns for knowledge. But you speak with a tongue of a diplomat and here we have agreed to be blunt with each other. I speak of him sharing your bed.”

 

“He is too young. I will not bed him,” Thor replied calmly. He had no qualms giving this promise as that was something he had already decided for himself. There was no reason to deny a worried mother some peace.

 

“Yet. Not yet, you mean,” Laufey corrected and Thor turned, almost surprised. Farbauti was stealing all of his attention.

 

“Yes. I would certainly hope to have an heir in a couple of centuries. The matters will be different then, I imagine.”

 

He bore Farbauti's stare for a while longer as she likely tried to assess whether he was being truthful. Knowing his own heart and intentions and realizing that their were good also, Thor even began to feel a little amused. It's been quite a while since somebody interrogated him as such; mostly the situation reminded him of his mother and they way she sometimes... handled him. He showed none of this on his face though, certain that his mirth would not be understood or appreciated.

 

“We are settled then,” Laufey prompted and Farbauti straightened up and nodded.

 

Thor led them out of the hall to rejoin the welcoming party and the rest of the group from Jotunheim, so they could, as was said, continue in the diplomatic circus. Loki was standing there, surrounded by several Jotuns who were guarding him closely. Next to Loki stood the queen with a slight smile playing on her lips; they seemed to be immersed in conversation, but as Thor, Laufey and Farbauti appeared, he trained his eyes on them, a slight frown on his face. It discomforted Thor when he realized he had been left standing there as his future was being discussed without his knowledge. Thor at least, despite also marrying for the state, was making decisions himself. And after seeing Loki in the flesh, so small and young, he felt a twinge of guilt about treating the boy as a pawn.

 

He resolved to make it up to him in every way possible.

 

* * *

 

Various ways of entertainment were prepared for the guests. Thor in particular was looking forward to the tournament, which was chosen to be a part of the celebration as a display of individual strength, meant to amuse the viewers without being political – troop parades were also a traditional form of celebration in Asgard, but they were promptly scrapped for this occasion. And because of the more light-hearted nature of the event, Thor opted to participate himself. But first, there was another duty to perform.

 

He stood with Loki at the edge of a large balcony that accompanied the feasting hall. Wine and various delicacies, such as sweets or foreign cheeses were being served in the late afternoon and people were milling around the terrace, drinks in hand.

 

Thor himself had a goblet of red wine, imported from Alfheim, in hand and he was fighting the urge to down it in one go. The festivities were wearing on him. Loki declined the wine, but Thor suspected it was less because he didn't want to drink it and more because of the stern look Farbauti gave him. Instead, he held a small plate with chocolates and he popped one into his mouth unceremoniously as he looked up to Thor and waited for him to speak.

 

It was the first time they were involved in a conversation without other people. They were not alone even now of course, but their words would be mostly private.

 

“I hope Asgard is pleasing to you,” Thor said, cringing inwardly at the emptiness of his words.

 

“Yes, though I suppose more time is needed for one to really know a place,” Loki replied, apparently unconcerned that Thor's first attempt at small talk was so wooden and Thor sighed inwardly in relief.

 

“Indeed. I will be happy to show you many more aspects of our lives here soon.”

 

“It will be my life as well, so I suppose I will learn quickly.”

 

Thor searched the city below them for some clue as to where continue with the conversation. He thought it best to look over the railing rather than stare at his husband-to-be. He discovered his gaze was drawn to him surprisingly often.

 

“Take these chocolates, for example,” Loki continued, sparing Thor the need to figure out what to say. “I have not had them until yesterday. And now I'm positively _addicted_.”

 

Thor looked back to Loki just in time to see him slide another sweet into his mouth. Then he licked his lips, staining them with the chocolate. Thor blinked. Loki looked at him expectantly.

 

_He did that on purpose._

 

Unexpected anger bloomed in Thor's chest; born out of stress and frustration perhaps, but it was there nonetheless. He was juggling a diplomatic event that Asgard hasn't seen in a millennium at least and that could not be compared to anything he ever presided during his reign, mistrusted by the Jotuns and questioned by the Aesir. He has made enough small talk to last for centuries and now there was this – this youngster, playing games with him.

 

Coolly, Thor lifted a napkin from the nearest table and handed it to Loki. Loki looked at the cloth for a moment and then snatched it from Thor's hands, wiping at his mouth with force.

 

 _Brilliant_ , Thor congratulated himself in silence, regretting the rude gesture already. First conversation with his betrothed and he was already on a downwards spiral.

 

All he could do was trudge on. “Tomorrow there is a tournament planned and I will be participating. It would be my honour if you'd grant me your favour to wear.”

 

He was probably setting himself up for a rejection, but what was he supposed to do? He could not touch Loki's _lips_ in public, for Norns' sake or even kiss him – whatever it was that he was being invited to do. And he had to ask for the favour. He had to wear it.

 

But it seemed he needn't have feared. Loki produced a bracelet made out of threads of gold interwoven with strips of leather, adorned with the same jade that the royal family of Jotunheim preferred.

 

“It's enchanted,” Loki told him, his tone polite but cool. “It will fit the wrist of whoever wears it perfectly.”

 

“Thank you.” There was real gratitude behind Thor's words, though the exchange was clearly formal and the bracelet had been readied precisely for it.

 

In a strike of inspiration, he reached for Loki's hand and pressed a light kiss on top of it. He did not miss the way the boy's red eyes widened at that at first, but then he smiled, bowing his head in acceptance of the gesture.

 

As they rejoined the crowd, their time alone up, Thor felt just a slight sense of relief. It seemed he didn't ruin anything. And he had a tournament to look forward to.

 

* * *

 

Asgard was warm and overwhelming. Loki loved it.

 

Well, truthfully, he was nervous about the temperature. It was winter on Asgard – one of the four different seasons apparently and winter was the coldest of them. It snowed sometimes but the flakes seemed so unfamiliar against the gold and yellow hues of the city. But even so, he felt uncomfortable at times, as if he was wrapped in too many furs. They arrived to the Realm Eternal dressed as lightly (though still richly) as possible, but it was still a shock. He remained worried about what would happen to him when the warmer seasons came, but he asked no one, not wanting to seem ignorant in case the answer was simple.

 

There was a lot to see and a lot to do, but mostly Loki concerned himself with Thor.

 

He was very much unlike what Loki had imagined and the reality surpassed fantasy on most accounts. He had taken to watching Thor as often as possible, because such a visage still seemed improbable. The Aesir were all different from what he knew, yes, and of course he noticed that many men in the city also had long, light hair, or were tall or strong, but the king stood above them all. His hair was longer than Loki's – which he wasn't used to seeing, because only his mother had hair as well and she often worn it up in braids and knots – and it was not at all like his own, so unfamiliar that he couldn't help but be fascinated. It was light in colour and the tone seemed to vary depending on the light – torches and candles made it look darker than the pale light that shone on Asgard during the day. Loki was looking forward to seeing it also in the night, with only the starlight illuminating it.

 

Thor's face, while beautiful in a regal, royal sort of way, could be intimidating, Loki learned. But that did not happen often. Mostly, kindness was reflected in the steady features.

 

Loki spent his whole life in the presence of people who were taller than him – who outright dwarfed him. Thor's height was superior to his own too, as were many of the other Aesir's, but it was so much closer to Loki's that he barely thought about it with the resentment it usually filled him. Instead, he enjoyed the solid presence Thor held. He was not only tall, but broad as well and always dressed as to accentuate this fact; with a long, red cape that swept behind him (and Loki knew that it was the king's colour for centuries now, but sometimes he liked to imagine it was a homage to the colour of Loki's eyes) and clad in armour that glittered in light and reminded everyone of his strength. Loki saw Thor without it only once, during a private dinner with only Thor, the queen Frigga, Loki and his parents present. It was a slightly dull affair, livened only by the queen's storytelling and the way Thor looked, dressed in a light grey tunic and red vest.

 

Now Loki was seated in a private booth on a high tribune that overlooked a large courtyard that was turned into an arena. The tournament has begun.

 

At first, it was new and exciting just like everything else in Asgard was, but in itself not too interesting. Several dozens of men and some women filled the courtyard and fought each other; mostly in pairs, though Loki did notice some bigger skirmishes. Slowly, the defeated left, in one piece, but often limping or else hurt until only about a third of the starting amount remained. These winners then participated in other contests, fighting with staves or with their bare hands. At about noon, just as refreshments were served and dancers and jokers took the place of the fighters during the break, Loki grew restless.

 

He nibbled on a pear, having already sampled a rather delectable selection of cold meats, and shot a covert look towards his parents. They shared the booth with him, but they had nudged Loki to sit up front, so that he might see the happenings and be seen in turn, whilst they sat as far back as possible and paid no attention to the tournament whatsoever, talking instead in hushed voices.

 

Where was Thor? The king was supposed to participate in the contests. Winners, three of them, which Loki found odd, were already announced before lunch. What was to happen in the afternoon then?

 

At last the dancers and acrobats left and the field was tidied rapidly. A sudden shush fell over the tribunes and Loki felt a shiver of anticipation running through him. He could feel the excitement buzzing in the air. The Aesir, usually so loud and boisterous were still, their gazes firmly trained at the large gate that was used to let the contestants in.

 

Then a loud cheer erupted and the gate opened. For a second, Loki was disappointed. The image before him was very similar to the one from the morning; a horde of fighters entering the courtyard. But then he spotted Thor.

 

Loki could tell, even as a foreigner, that this was the main event based simply on the appearance of the contestants now and before – the fighters down there now were bigger, and if not bigger, they seemed more ruthless. There was a lesser number of women among them, but there still were some and Loki noticed particularly two – one dark haired and one blonde, both standing close to Thor, sharp smiles playing on their lips, swords tightly gripped.

 

But that was as long as Loki could pay attention to any other but Thor. Thor was... he was topless, dressed only in simple black pants and high leather boots. About the wrist was the bracelet that Loki had given him. Thor was not the only fighter who forwent clothing, but he was certainly the most impressive one. He had a large axe swung over his shoulder and even at the distance Loki could see the wolfish grin on his face.

 

Loki found his fists were balled and tremors were running through his entire body.

 

Thor was huge and powerful, his muscles bulging and glistening in the sunlight. He looked rogue and hard and _dangerous_ and Loki felt at that very moment genuinely afraid. That was not the well-spoken king he had met down there.

 

Then the fighting started. Weapons rang almost deafeningly loud, the noise rising up to the tribunes, followed by war-cries and grunts of the fighters. The fights were quicker and harsher than before and Loki found himself holding his breath and leaning forward, his whole body tense.

 

A lot of the contestants were targeting Thor and often he fought three, even four at once, spinning the large axe in his hands. Loki quickly surmised that the rules were different too – it seemed that a contestant lost once they suffered a great bleeding wound or were knocked out. The weapons were sharp and Thor's axe frankly didn't look much less deadly in Thor's hand than the magical hammer Mjolnir might. Not that Loki ever saw Thor use it, but he had seen it in his hand or tied to his belt at several occasions and his eyes had been drawn to the powerful object. Loki's gaze was firmly trained at Thor throughout the whole competition and his heartbeat remained frantic. His initial fear abated, but he was left feeling somehow stunned, as though he was just taught an important lesson. Such feeling filled him also with embarrassment and he glanced back at his parents. They now were also watching the fight and Loki knew them well enough to read that Laufey was entertained, while Farbauti was simply frowning a bit.

 

Satisfied that they didn't notice his fluster, he looked back down.

 

The crowd of fighters was thinning considerably. There were blood splatters on the sand and the air surrounding both the arena and the tribunes was saturated with frenzy. Thor was still fighting, showing no signs of tiring, though several strands of his hair were plastered to his face, darkened with sweat

 

Loki watched him circle an opponent, a man that was shorter than Thor, but almost twice as wide, clad in leather armour and holding a large club. Thor was slightly crouched, holding the axe in front of him as he stepped as lightly as though he was dancing, almost imperceptibly inching closer with every step to the side he took. When Thor finally moved, Loki's eyes could barely follow the movement. He thrust the axe's handle upwards, hitting the man in the chest and sending him stumbling while Thor ducked and spun out of the way to avoid getting hit with the club. His opponent surged forward then, enraged by the blunt attack and Thor avoided him again, swinging the axe so that it skittered across the man's arm, cutting him deep just below the shoulder. Loki saw Thor grin as the man grunted, pressing the palm of his other hand to the wound and gave Thor a small nod before hurrying off the arena. Loki reached for a goblet of wine with an unsteady hand. His throat was very dry.

 

In the end, Thor was left with the two women that Loki had noticed at the start of the event and now that he had more reason to look closely at them, he recognized the dark-haired one as the Lady Sif whom he had met several times. The blonde's name still evaded him, which was odd since she was as formidable as her two opponents, almost as tall as Thor, with a long braid falling down her back and a large sword in her hands. The three of them wasted almost no time sizing each other up and threw themselves into the fight, laughter rising from their throats. At first Loki didn't comprehend what he was seeing, but then he heard Farbauti behind him chuckle and he understood; Sif and the other woman teamed up to take Thor down.

 

And that's precisely what they did, leaving Loki shocked as he watched Thor limp from the arena after receiving a nasty blow to the side of his knee with the butt of Lady Sif's spear and a shallow, but long cut across his bare chest from the tip of the blonde's sword. Loki sat on the edge of his seat without even knowing it, straining to see where Thor went.

 

“That's a regrettable weakness,” Laufey said and Loki whipped around. “He should teach them to have more respect.”

 

“How blind you are, dear husband,” Farbauti smiled in a crooked way, her eyes never leaving the arena where the winner was being decided. Loki lost all interest in the fight now of course and simply sat, astonished.

 

He just learned more about Thor both as king and a man in the hour he watched him fight in the arena than he had learned in the two days he spent in his company at the court. Now if only he could figure out what to do with it.

 

* * *

 

“Congratulations again,” Thor smiled when the door of his study opened and Sif stepped in, scrubbed clean and dressed informally. He had already given her the official congratulations as he presided the closing ceremony of the tournament, tasked with giving out the prizes to the winners.

 

“Thank you,” Sif laughed. “While your commendation is important to me, I expect Brunnhilde's will warm me even more.”

 

Thor could take a hint and a smiled fondly. “I will not keep you long. With the alliance sealed, some new rules and protocols will have to be followed and several of them concern the army. I have some documents for you to-”

 

“Thor,” Sif interrupted him, approaching his desk and sitting on the edge of it, leaning to look at him carefully. “What are you doing? This is _paperwork_. You don't have to do this right now.”

 

He didn't even attempt to argue, instead he just sat back and sighed.

 

“Don't mind what I said about Brunnhilde, if you need to talk-”

 

“No, you should go and be merry, you deserve it. I simply... tell me – how does he seem to you?”

 

Sif considered this for a moment. “It's very hard to tell.”

 

Thor chuckled unhappily and Sif shot him and exasperated look, meaning he was to let her finish. “How can you truly see what's in a person in such a short amount of time and during such formal circumstances? I can easily tell you now that I feel he's a bit spoiled and a little cold, but how can that do him justice when he must uphold decorum and present himself as a prince worthy of this kingdom?”

 

Her words weren't some candied assurances, but rather rang true and wise and it calmed Thor.

 

“You used to be so carefree,” Sif continued wistfully. “Now it seems that all you do is fret. Did the contest today not clear your mind?”

 

It did in fact – for several glorious hours, until he donned his ceremonial armour again and stepped out to the arena as a king to make another speech. He said as much and Sif shook her head ruefully, though a smile still played on her lips.

 

“Perhaps I should have let you win then.”

 

“Oh no, Norns no,” Thor laughed. “My knee still hurts; it's the highlight of my day.”

 

“Listen,” Sif continued when they were done snickering about the blow she had dealt him. “Be patient. You will come to know him and he will come to know you in time and I'm sure it will work out. Do not treat it as... diplomacy or politics. You are a good, passionate man. He will love you.”

 

“Thank you, Sif. Your council is priceless as ever.”

 

They shared a warm look and Thor reached across the desk to squeeze Sif's hand. He was truly immensely grateful for her words.

 

“And besides, I think the young blood will do you good,” she winked. “You are growing old and stuffy. You need some excitement. And he's very handsome.”

 

“That he is,” Thor forced himself to laugh. Sif left soon after and Thor opted to not linger in his study any longer. He knew perfectly well that he has been using it as a hiding spot for the past several months.

 

The conversation with his best friend and closest advisor was indeed helpful, but it did not ease his mind fully. He still had to be mindful of his promises made to the Jotuns, both the realm and the royal family that he had chosen to support, he had to be mindful of Loki himself, especially since he felt they have not gotten off to the best start.

 

But despite this, his path seemed clearer now. He walked down the hall, leaving the council wing altogether until he came to a nearby balcony. Mjolnir's handle practically vibrated in his hand and he spun the hammer and then finally, launched himself into the night sky just as thunder rumbled and lighting flashed on the horizon.

 

 


	3. After the Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occured to me that Thor's POV might be a bit warped when it comes to Loki's age - which is entirely the point of these first chapters, but I thought it might be better if I made it clear what I had in mind - by our standards, Loki would be around 17, while Thor I imagine to be 35-ish. Picture Chris Hemsworth's gruff charm in five years. In actual years, Thor is around 1800 and Loki 500 - which does not fit mathematically, I know, but I'm working off the tidbits we've been given in the MCU and try to use what works for me.

The empty halls felt eerily quiet after the noise of the feasting hall. The city below was alive with rancorous celebration as well; lanterns and fireworks shone as brightly as though it was day and on every main street, a long feasting table overflowing with food and drink was placed. Every tavern was filled with people, its doors open wide to let them flow and dance in and out.

 

The people of Asgard knew how to celebrate and the delicacies and good mead and wine served freely at the king's order made it easy to simply be merry and forget any reservations about the king's spouse they might have had.

 

The main feast in palace had been just as happy and loud and Thor had found himself sitting back contently, watching his friends drink and feast in honour of his wedding, though he barely participated in the drinking or conversation, preferring to share a meal with his new husband, words exchanged between them as they looked down at the bustle together.

 

He and Loki left the celebration reasonably early and were now walking together in silence towards their chambers. The further they were from the feasting hall and from the front part of the palace that oversaw the city, the quieter it got and Thor grew more aware of the slight presence beside him. He hadn't been able to read his new husband's mood very well during the day, but he found himself remembering Sif's words. Everything was too formal. Loki was very focused on decorum.

 

Thor wondered what awaited him behind closed doors.

 

Arriving to their chambers, Thor opened the door for Loki and let him pass first with a slight inclination of his head, to which Loki responded with a warm smile that Thor found himself automatically returning and his stomach jolted after the exchange.

 

Yes. Yes, perhaps everything would be fine.

 

The entrance room was made into an audience salon, the least private and most formal part of the suite. It was large and square, with doors on each of the four wall. One was the entrance, the opposite one led to a more private living space, complete with several sofas and a dining table, while the doors at the sides led respectively to Thor and Loki's private studies and libraries.

 

Beyond the living and dining chamber was their bedroom and on each side of it a private bath, both of which also connected to the studies.

 

When Thor had been approving the layout, he had been grimly pleased to notice that both intimacy and complete privacy were possible.

 

“It's beautiful,” Loki commented after examining the audience and living chambers and after peeking into his own private library.

 

“I'm glad you approve. If there is something not to your taste, it can be changed.”

 

“No, no, this seems very... pleasing. But I believe there will be more time for me to explore later.”

 

“Of course. We've had a long day, you must be tired.”

 

Loki hummed non-committally and they continued towards the bedroom. Loki walked first, eager to see more of the rooms, and Thor regarded the figure in front of him with curiosity. For the wedding, Loki wore a green cape, similar in cut and material to Thor's red one, in addition to a seemly outfit of black leather, the peculiar jade that Laufey's house preferred and he had topped it off with several accessories made of gold. Thor himself went with a rather traditional formal armour, newly made and adorned with silver. His cape had a lining made of snow fox, silvery white and soft, to better suit the season, even if Thor particularly didn't need the added warmth.

 

The bedroom was rather large, but furnished richly to give it a more cosy feel. The most dominant feature was of course the huge bed, centred against the far wall. It was very low, covered in pillows and furs, with embroidered covers on top, while soft curtains hung from the posters. Loki surveyed the chamber shortly, walking about its circumference and then he slowly came to stand in front of Thor, smiling up at him. Thor returned both the gaze and smile, a certain sense of contentment filling him. He had been simply waiting for Loki to set the tone of the evening and he found it rather enjoyable to watch him explore, especially since he seemed to be at ease.

 

Then Loki reached up to Thor's collar and ran his fingers through the fur.

 

“This is fox, yes? They have almost died out on Jotunheim.”

 

“They live in Asgard's mountains in a plenty number,” Thor replied, almost automatically. Loki continued petting the fur collar, his fingers threading quite close to Thor's skin.

 

“I should like to see one in the wild, then.”

 

“I'll be happy to take you.”

 

“Good,” Loki smiled and cupped Thor's jaw in his palm, stroking his beard just like he stroked the fur before.

 

Thor almost jumped at the contact, but then he subsided and regarded Loki with calmness that came swiftly and unexpectedly. The hand on his cheek was small and cool, pleasant. And somehow the feeling anchored him. They had been too formal indeed. They lives together were just starting, a shocking thought that perhaps he hadn't let enter his mind during the entire day. But as happy as he was with Loki's boldness, a suspicion was creeping up on him as well.

 

With purpose, he gently placed both hands at sides of Loki's face, tilting his head up slightly, letting himself openly gaze at the young face. He was indeed handsome, his features even and defined. His markings were subtle, accentuating his bone structure. Just as his hand had been, his cheeks were a little cool to the touch. Thor didn't miss the slight widening of Loki's eyes when he touched him. The light in the room was dim and it made the red in his eyes look very dark, almost black.

 

_Like a spooked deer._

 

Thor smiled and then pressed a light kiss to his husband's forehead before releasing him and stepping away. Loki's hand skittered down Thor's chest as his hold on Thor's cheek slipped and he pulled it back, as though burned.

 

With nothing more said, Thor turned the walk in closet at his half of the room, just next to the entrance to his bathroom and began undressing. The fur collar and his cape came first, both of which he hung carefully. His ceremonial armour had a special rack in the closet and this he put away tidily as well, but his tunic, boots and pants he dropped simply on the floor for the servants to take away for washing. Then he searched for simple, short linen trousers to sleep in.

 

The whole time he was aware that Loki didn't move and was watching him. It felt like like an itch at the top of his spine, not actually bad, but definitely impossible to ignore.

 

He came back to the bedroom, bare-chested and bare-feet. It finally jolted Loki to activity and turned away hurriedly, loosening his cape and letting it fall to the floor. Thor headed for the bed as he didn't plan on returning the attention that Loki gave him while disrobing.

 

“I saw you fight,” Loki said suddenly, stopping Thor. Thor faced him, curious. He was still standing there in the middle of the room, cape pooled at his feet, one hand stopped still where he was unlacing his tunic.

 

“I should hope so, I was wearing your favour,” Thor smiled, trying to respond in a light-hearted way. He could see that Loki was... disturbed perhaps. Or that something was weighting on him.

 

“You were...” Loki trailed off and closed in on Thor again, though now he did not come to stand close as he did before. “You were different.”

 

A king's participation in the tournament was allowed and encouraged even and Thor had jumped at the opportunity to let loose even if only for a short time and he hadn't thought it would be much of a consequence. Now he looked at his husband, standing very still and out of reach, eyes fixed on Thor with intensity. He hadn't notice at first in the dimness, but Loki's chest was heaving hard.

 

Thor felt a pang of guilt. He had frightened the boy without meaning to. He thought that perhaps Farbauti had spoken to him, but the expectant air that Loki had about himself once they entered their chambers suggested otherwise.

 

“I...” Thor started, turning away from Loki to sit on the bed. “Well, in my youth, battling was the best past-time I could think of. Tournaments such as these are mere homage to that.”

 

“Only the tournaments?” Loki prompted and Thor frowned, unsure.

 

“There were not many reasons to ride out to battle these past decades.”

 

A tiny snort escaped Loki's mouth and finally he seemed to relax from the drawn up posture that Thor was learning was typical from him. Mimicking Thor's actions from before, he examined his own closet and undressed.

 

Thor tipped back to sprawl on the bed, his legs still hanging off the edge and looked to the ceiling for answers. He heard Loki approaching soon, soft patter of feet on the polished floor and it occurred to him that perhaps they were equally confused. That Loki was trying to do what he believed Thor expected of him, while Thor... well, didn't expect anything.

 

He remembered himself. It was his place to take the worry and uncertainty off his husband's shoulders.

 

So he pushed himself up on his elbows, intending to move to his side of the bed and searching for the right words to say, so that they might both rest.

 

Suffice to say that he was rather shocked when he saw Loki was naked, about to kneel on the bed. Thor watched mutely as he lowered himself onto the sheets and sighed, curling on the side and facing Thor, head propped up on his hand.

 

Thor cleared his throat and looked decidedly at Loki's face only. “Are you... were your nightclothes not unpacked?”

 

“It's too hot,” Loki answered as though it was obvious, regarding Thor with a little smirk. His amusement faded soon though and he laid his head down on the pillow. Thor grew a bit unnerved as Loki kept watching him with the same wary intensity from before, not saying anything nor moving. Just the wide-eyed gaze glued to Thor.

 

“All right, well, let me wish you goodnight,” Thor said finally and then tried to wiggle under the covers with some dignity left. It was bad enough he was sprawling on the bed like a starfish, gaping at his husband's naked body.

 

Silence was his only reply and Thor waved his hands, pinching off the remaining lights in the room.

 

Then a sharp intake of breath and the sound of an aborted attempt at speech came to his ears.

 

“What's that?” he whispered as softly as possible.

 

“Nothing. Nothing... goodnight.”

 

Loki sounded very resolved when saying _nothing_ and so Thor accepted the reply and closed his eyes.

 

* * *

 

Thor slept surprisingly well, not waking until the sun rose high enough to shine into his eyes. And even then he simply laid, welcoming the warmth on his face and the lazy softness of his – their – bed. There was no need to rush. Traditionally the newly weds were granted the whole morning and good portion of afternoon, being left alone and to themselves. Thor didn't exactly plan on doing that though; Laufey and Farbauti were leaving in the late afternoon and he believed that Loki would rather spend as much time with them as possible rather than dally about with Thor in empty chambers. There was no telling when Loki might see his parents again. Laufey at least would likely never come to Asgard again and even Farbauti's potential visit would have to wait. The house of Laufey would be busy without a doubt once they reclaimed the Casket and set to repair their realm.

 

After several minutes of savouring the rest that seemed very rare now that it was granted to him, he opened his eyes and looked to his left. Next to him, Loki was asleep, curled on his side in the same manner that he had gone to sleep, except now he had one of the many furs the bed was stuffed with in his grasp and he was curled around it, hugging it tightly to his chest. His cheek was pressed to the soft material and the whiskers flattened and raised again softly with his breath. It was very endearing, though Thor felt a peculiar tug in his stomach as he watched him; he did not care to examine that feeling. But as he had no wish to wake Loki up, he had little choice but to lie still and he could not help watching the sleeping boy. His face was perfectly slack and Thor now saw how much tension he had been carrying in him during the short days they've known each other. Today would probably not be any better, but in the days after that... there would be no duties and no formalities to fulfil, Loki would be able to learn of his new home and position at his own pace. Thor would see to it that he would have as much time and privacy and help as he needed. His thoughts revolved around this for quite a while; just as he was thinking of which mages to ask to tutor Loki, Loki stirred, letting go of the fur and rolling onto his back, stretching his arms above his head with a little sigh.

 

Thor did not want to be caught ogling, but could hardly pretend to sleep and it seemed rude to simply up and go. He opted for honesty in the end, staying on his side as he had been, waiting for Loki to meet his gaze.

 

“Good morning,” he smiled at Loki as he finally opened his eyes and after a while of looking up to the ceiling he turned to Thor.

 

“Good morning,” Loki replied in fashion, but his face was curiously blank. An enquiry about the quality of Loki's sleep was almost on the tip of Thor's tongue, but he did not have a chance to ask it. Loki leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Thor's. It was brief but not entirely innocent; Loki's mouth was plump and wet from sleep and Thor caught a taste of him – entirely shocking and unasked for, but hardly unpleasant. Loki laid back again with an triumphant smirk playing on his face.

 

“Slept well?” Thor finally asked, though his tone was rougher than he anticipated, sarcastic almost as a result of his surprise, and the smile was wiped from Loki's lips. He cleared his throat, intending to repeat the question on a more polite manner, but he didn't get the chance.

 

“Yes. I suppose _you_ didn't though,” Loki spat and before Thor could realize what was happening, he bolted from the bed and headed to his bathroom at a brisk pace, slamming the door behind him.

 

Thor thunk his head against the headboard. Repeatedly.

 

During the awkward affair that was their first private breakfast, Thor had to acquiescence to the idea that Loki's odd behaviour was due to the fact that he _wanted_ to bed Thor, rather than being afraid of it. Though no, that might not have been entirely accurate. He was afraid, Thor was sure he hadn't been wrong about that, but he was simply determined as well. For what reason though, that Thor couldn't fathom. It changed very little either way, except that he now understood better and could placate Loki, or so he hoped.

 

Thor was eating fresh bread with cheese, breaking the pastry with his hands and popping the pieces into his mouth along with hunks of the soft white cheese. Loki went straight for the cakes and biscuits, sampling them all with stubborn dedication.

 

“I did not mean to upset you, I'm sorry,” Thor said. And he meant it of course, but the words sounded so toothless to him. He was apologizing for something he would not – could not – change.

 

“I am not upset,” Loki replied and Thor was almost relieved until he caught the subtle sarcastic curve of Loki's words. “It's like home, no? You people call Jotunheim cold and unwelcoming, I can see why you'd try to make our bedroom the same for me.”

 

It was not a time for humour – Thor desperately wanted to make things right with his husband, to start them off to good, happy future and so far, they were not precisely succeeding, but even with that in mind, it was all Thor could do to keep his face straight. He was certain Loki had been practising that retort all morning, which he had spent a good portion of locked in the bathroom.

 

So he simply stared for a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. Loki ignored him loftily, eating more of the sweets. Sulking was not all he had done in front of the mirror it seemed; his hair was loose but graced with many small braids, especially on the underside of his head, giving him a rather elegant appearance. Thor had simply pulled his own hair into a loose ponytail, planning to only give it a better treatment before the afternoon ceremony.

 

“I'm sure Jotunheim cannot be unwelcoming when it births such passionate people,” Thor finally told Loki, his mouth cracking into smile and he offered Loki a crooked grin.

 

It was a good choice of words. Loki seemed to perk up at being dubbed passionate and he returned Thor's smirk, flashing teeth in a manner that suggested perhaps he had tried to fight his smile off and failed. Thanks to that, they were able to finish their breakfast in silence that was relaxed at last.

 

“Would you like to go see your parents now?” Thor asked when their plates were cleared and two servants slipped in to take everything away.

 

“Yes- Yes, I suppose,” Loki murmured and then frowned. “Of course.”

 

They set off together shortly, hoping to find Laufey and Farbauti in the feasting hall where breakfast was being served as well. Not many people were in the palace, which was unusual and Thor explained.

 

“It is usually more lively around here, but I'm afraid last night's celebration has left many still in their beds, nursing headaches.”

 

Loki laughed then, a startling, musical sound. Thor tried to think whether he had heard Loki laugh before and had to concede that probably not. He was glad to hear it now.

 

They found Loki's parents already finished with their meal and standing at the balcony, looking down to the city and sharing a quiet conversation. When they heard Thor and Loki approach, both turned with expectant expressions. Thor smiled politely and exchanged wishes of good morning, though mostly with Laufey as Farbauti paid him very little attention – apart from a sharp, searching look – and turned to talk to her son.

 

As if on cue, Sif and Brunnhilde appeared in the feasting hall and Thor glimpsed them through the open doors.

 

“I'm sure you'd like some time alone with your son,” Thor told to Laufey. “I should leave you to it and then we can meet before you receive the casket.”

 

Unsurprisingly, this was met with no disagreement and Thor walked away, joining Sif and Brunnhilde. Last glimpse at his husband's family showed Farbauti crouched to look Loki in the eyes more easily and Loki with his hands folded over his chest, petulant expression on his face.

 

Well. They did need the privacy.

 

“Thor,” Brunnhilde greeted him, clasping his shoulder. “You look well rested.”

 

She said it with a perfectly straight expression, but he didn't need to see Sif snicker into her tea to know that he would a butt of their jokes this morning.

 

“I am,” he faked an exasperated reply and they all laughed. Then Thor went on, unable to resist the temptation to get back at them. “You ladies do not, though. Sif, I think there is a feather in your hair. Whatever did the pillows do to you?”

 

Sif and Brunnhilde both groaned at his overzealous and very obviously well-meant attempt to embarrass them and he received a hefty punch to his arm for it. Once they settled though, Sif looked at him, her eyes searching. Thor was very well versed with this expression and he could not help lowering his gaze.

 

“How did it go though?” Sif asked softly. Brunnhilde watched them quietly; she was a good friend to him too and as a captain of the palace guard, he trusted her immensely, but still their friendship wasn't as intimate as his and Sif's was. It did not matter – he had little to say and nothing he had to hide... or so he hoped.

 

“I believe Loki and I have reached an understanding,” he smiled. Have they though? The words slipped from his lips, bringing gentle smiles to Sif's and Brunnhilde's faces, but he was left feeling a little unsettled. He _did_ understand Loki's recent behaviour finally, but could the same be said for his husband?

 

* * *

 

Returning the Casket to Laufey was a last step in the peace-treating between the two realms. The ceremony was solemn, much more so than even the wedding. Loki was seated at second throne which had been placed next to the Hlidskjalf while Laufey, Farbauti and the entire party from Jotunheim stood before him. Thor exchanged several quiet words with the king of Jotunheim and then walked off alone to personally fetch the Casket and give it straight to Laufey's hands.

 

A collective sigh escaped the lips of all the present Jotuns when Laufey's hands wrapped around the handles of the Casket and Thor let it go. It was a stunning sight; a moment filled with peculiar tension and seeing the dazed faces of several of the Jotuns, Thor felt that it was involuntary and likely caused by seidr. The Casket truly was Jotunheim's lifeline and they all felt its loss acutely. And now Laufey would return triumphant, silencing the dissent with the tool of healing and prosperity in his hands.

 

Thor did not inherit Sight from his mother nor father, but at that moment a dizzying feeling clouded his vision, just for split second and an image of Yggdrasil flashed before his mind's eye, strong and beautiful and forever.

 

But the moment of elation was short and soon Thor felt a presence joining him by his side; Loki had come down to give final, this time formal, farewells to his parents. They all walked the distance to the Bifrost observatory and Thor looked in wonder around the city. It was snowing heavily, much more than was usual in the city itself, though it would not be an uncommon phenomenon in the nearby mountains. Thor thought it beautiful; the nature reacting to the reconciliation of seidr that belonged, but he did notice the whispers and frowns at faces of his people.

 

They needn't have worried. Once the Bifrost roared to life and Laufey, Farbauti and the rest vanished, the wind quieted and the snowing all but stopped. The party of Aesir that was part of the procession dissolved from their formation and respectful silence and started mingling, returning to the city in small groups and excited talk could be heard all around. Thor was not in any hurry and he simply stood, watching the edge of space, trying to centre himself after feeling such strong powers change around him.

 

Then a cool hand touched his wrist.

 

“Can we go?” Loki asked, terse and looking over Thor's shoulder rather than at him.

 

Thor nodded and offered Loki his arm, though soon it was Loki leading Thor rather than the other way around – he _was_ in a hurry. Thor obliged, lengthening his steps and soon they were coming to their chambers. He had thought perhaps Loki would appreciate a small tour through some parts of the city as they walked, to finally learn more about the places he had seen repeatedly during the journey from and to Bifrost, but his attempts were shot down immediately.

 

Once they were alone, Loki let go of Thor's arm and walked off some distance, standing by the window to watch the, now very few, snowflakes fall.

 

“If you want to be alone, you need only ask,” Thor told him. Loki was quiet for a while and Thor almost took it as an agreement and was about to turn and leave.

 

“No. No, I don't think I wish to be alone.”

 

It was an evening of the likes that Thor wasn't used to. Loki was not interested in conversation, only quiet company and so they stayed together in the living chamber, which was a very pleasant room with multitude of comfortable sofas and chairs. A fire was burning in the hearth, as was typical for the season and oddly Loki even declined Thor's offer to put the fire out or perhaps at least open the balcony door to let cold air in. Thor seated himself on a sofa close to the fire and opened a book of stories, which was a type of past-time that he hadn't indulged in since he became king. His reading material usually consisted of documents of state and when he wishes to unwind, he did so in the company of his friends, often in a tavern. Simply reading for the pleasure of it felt almost as foreign as the man in his company.

 

Loki was roaming through the room, examining the bookshelves, watching the fire with slight suspicion and sticking a poker into it to see the burning logs topple. He changed into black linen pants and black cotton tunic, a comfortable, loose outfit that was unlike anything Thor had seen Loki in before. To Thor, it was just another reminder that this was it; their life together has begun.

 

There was no doubt in Thor's mind about what had Loki so upset and quiet – he had just said goodbye to his parents for a very long time. He thought there was not much he could actually do, but after two hours of silence, he decided to try at least. One thing he had already learned well about Loki was that he was changeable. His need for quiet might very well be spent and Thor would hate to seem unapproachable.

 

“Would you like to join me?” he asked, gesturing towards his book and Loki raised his head, expression slightly bereft. He then shrugged and started towards Thor, sitting down next to him. Thor was about to offer that he might read out loud, but the book was pried from his fingers and set on the floor carefully.

 

And Thor was wrong – Loki appeared perfectly determined to not say a single word.

 

He slid across the sofa until he was pressed to Thor and leaned against his side, wiggling until Thor wrapped his arm around Loki's shoulders, which he did in silent surprise, just in time to see Loki's eyelashes flutter; he closed his eyes and let out a huff, resting his head against Thor and then he stilled.

 

Thor smiled to himself then, a warm feeling filling his chest. It was pleasant to sit like that, to be sought after for comfort. It was understandable that his young husband wasn't interested in sharing what he was going through using words – what could he say? _Your realm is strange and new and I'm forced to live here?_ No. No, Thor already knew Loki well enough to understand he would not say this. But the act of trust, seeking physical safety in Thor's arms, that filled him with such pride. He had told himself before that he had great responsibility for the young man next to him and it seemed like Loki would meet him halfway. It was a good feeling indeed. Still smiling, Thor closed his eyes and pressed Loki to himself just a little tighter.

 


	4. Winter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.

He didn't mean to fall asleep, obviously. But the day had been taxing and he had barely slept at all the previous night. It had been his fourth day on Asgard, but somehow the warm climate got to him during that particular night, more than any other before. He thought he would be used to it by then, but the opposite was true and he wondered if it also had anything to do with Thor and the closeness of their bodies. And how could it not? He had been warm and he _right there_ , just close enough to touch. And Loki had done just that when he woke. The sight of him in the morning sun, watching Loki openly with soft eyes... Loki could not resist the draw. The bigger the disappointment then when Thor had barely responded and then all but growled at Loki, pushing him away.

 

But as much as his pride struggled, he could not – did not want to – hold grudges. And there was something about the way Thor apologized... he was so earnest and serious every time he did. It made him even more handsome than usual.

 

He had bristled when his mother began interrogating him that morning, almost shooing Thor away.

 

_No, mother, he didn't touch me, but oh I wish he had._

 

Well, he had not told her that precisely, but he had been so enraged by her relieved expression and the look of smug approval she shot towards Thor as he talked to other people that it very much ruined any mood he was in for farewells.

 

He had regretted it slightly then, when the roaring, flashing Bifrost took his parents away, probably for good. He had been left alone and feeling very disconnected, not just from everybody else as he found himself alone in a land of strangers, but from his own thoughts and wants as well. And yet he had come forward when Thor beckoned him, feeling so spent and listless and it was so good, to rest against the warm, strong frame.

 

He woke to a feeling of weightlessness and it was only barely that he managed to stay motionless and with his eyes closed, his body catching up to what was happening sooner than his sleeping mind did. Thor was carrying him; one strong arm was hooked under his knees, the other supported his back gently. Loki let his head loll against Thor's chest, feigning sleep so that Thor would not have an excuse to put him down. In truth he became wide awake rapidly, his heart beating in excitement.

 

As they passed from the living chamber into the bedroom, Thor fumbled with the door handle so much that Loki feared it might not be feasible for him to pretend to be asleep anymore with all the jostling, but Thor voiced no suspicion and soon Loki felt himself being lowered onto the bed.

 

He wanted to do something, take advantage of the situation, perhaps pretend to wake and pull Thor down on top of him – if he could manage that, which was not at all certain – but he didn't get a chance to do it. Thor laid him down gently and Loki's head sank onto the pillow. Then a soft brush of fingers pushed stray hair from his forehead, not just once, but several times and it was clearly a caress, a touch like -

 

Loki was paralysed by the pleasure of it and so surprised he did nothing, lying still and drinking in the feel of Thor's fingertips on his skin. His mouth dry and he wished for more, but just as so many times before, he was disappointed. Thor withdrew his hand and moved away, quietly making his way through the room. Loki tried to follow his movements based on the sounds he was making, but Thor seemed to be exceptionally capable of moving quietly and soon he disappeared into the bathing chamber, leaving Loki alone and very frustrated.

 

Almost angrily, Loki took off his clothes and chucked them to the floor. Then, shooting a defiant look towards the closed door, from where he could just about hear the splash and sizzle of running water if he really strained his ears, he reached down for his cock. He was half hard already from Thor carrying him and touching him, but feeling his own fingers, so familiar, and boring, only served to remind him how spare those touches were and he tugged at his flesh angrily. Nevertheless, the need was there and he trained his thoughts at Thor, the way he smelled, his strong arms, plump lips smiling at him, rough, long fingers on Loki's skin and -

 

Carelessly, he wiped his hand on a sheet and rolled over, knowing that he would not win the battle against sleep.

 

* * *

 

Thor spent the day with a peculiar sense of unrest... unrest and frustration. A routine Council meeting awaited him that morning and stretched regrettably on for many hours. It seemed as though during the couple of days of hosting the Jotnar and celebrating Thor's wedding impossible number of issues was raised. Each council member had a report about his assigned field and each seemed more eager than the previous one to stress the importance of what they had to say above all else.

 

Thor had learned quite a while ago not to underestimate even the smallest of problems if it concerned his people, but listening for over an hour to the listing of complaints based on the unexpected snow storm that accompanied the departure of the Jotun party – especially since he knew very well that it caused no harm to the fields and therefore the crops and other plants – did nothing for his mood. Finally his patience snapped as word was given to Holmr, who coughed dryly and began droning about a minor change in trade law concerning cattle.

 

“Holmr, thank you, but perhaps such matters could wait for another day, once the more urgent problems have been dealt with,” he snapped, anger coiling in him and making him ignore the councilman's offended expression. He did not care. Old, ignorant man, he could see how much work was to be done and he stalled with the nonsense...

 

Thor stopped the train of thought forcefully, balling his fists under the table where no one could see. Many eyes were on him, but even more were boring silently into the long table; some did not dare meet his gaze.

 

He continued in a calmer, but still stern tone. “We have established that the understandable disruption of the past days has caused problems. I should like to think that each of you is capable of gauging what takes priority. Am I wrong?”

 

A murmur of 'no' and heads shaken ran about the table.

 

“Good. Tomorrow, I expect your reports to short and precise. If you bring a problem to me, bring a solution along with it. Dismissed. I will listen to Fandral's report alone.”

 

Still trying to calm the pounding of his blood, Thor watched in satisfaction as the councilmen hurried away. Meanwhile, Fandral wandered over and took the now vacant place on Thor's right.

 

“Well, you are in a mood,” Fandral said flippantly and Thor smiled.

 

“Indeed.”

 

“I understand. You should be away on honey moon with your new husband and instead you have to listen to suggestions of how cows are to be bought and sold, as though you don't know everything about it!”

 

Under Thor's disbelieving gaze that quickly grew stormy, Fandral realized how his words might have been misconstrued.

 

“Thor, my apologies, that's not what I-”

 

“Your report and then out. Quickly.”

 

He was sure later he would be sorry for treating his friend in such a way, but that remark cut too deep for him to care at that moment, even though he understood that Fandral only had an innocent jest in mind.

 

Shaking his head, Fandral spoke of the mood and rumours in the city. Back when he took the throne, Thor had chaffed at the idea of this institution; he had not liked the idea of spying on his people, but the years had shown it was necessary for safety of the many. Besides, no persecution was ever based on Fandral's findings, simply caution and other steps were taken and only then the potential culprit stood trial.

 

As expected, there were some whisperings against the marriage. The people knew next to nothing of the Casket of ancient winters and yet they seemed largely unhappy that it was no longer in 'their' possession.

 

“Any danger to Loki?”

 

“No, no, it doesn't seem that way at all. If it did, I would have come immediately.”

 

“Good. Now leave me.”

 

For a second he was sure that Fandral would argue, but then his friend simply got up with a sigh and gave Thor a small pat on the shoulder before he went.

 

Thor rested his elbows on the table and put his head to his hands. That was indeed a very bad day. In the silence, his mind returned to the source of his frustration which was there much earlier than the council meeting.

 

Last night he had brought Loki to bed after he had fallen asleep on the sofa, head pillowed on Thor's shoulder. He had thought it would be rude and careless to leave him lying there, so he had picked him up and carried him away, content that he seemed to be deeply asleep. But then he had gone to bathe and when he returned, he saw Loki devoid of all the clothes he was wearing before. That in itself hadn't seemed bad, he had guessed that maybe Loki grew too hot, as he had already told Thor once was happening to him on Asgard and had kicked off his clothing before going back to sleep.

 

Except that when Thor had laid down, spying another curious look at his husband, he realized there was... well, drying semen on the covers. And perhaps at that point he should have stopped looking immediately and turned away, but he hadn't and instead he saw more of the glinting, white substance on Loki's right palm and understandably, on his penis.

 

Thor did not begrudge him the pleasure, of course not. He was free to do with himself as he wished, but the spread of his naked limbs on the covers, the evidence of what he had done when he should have been asleep... When he must have known Thor was nearby and could join him any second.

 

Careless, silly boy, that's what Loki was, Thor thought to himself in the empty Council chamber. _Tricky._

 

He allowed himself a couple more minutes of solitude to calm himself fully. He had done enough damage with his anger today. Then he headed towards his chambers.

 

He was slightly surprised to find them empty. He knocked on the door leading to Loki's study and received no reply, which made him a bit apprehensive. That morning, he had left quickly with barely anything spoken between him and his husband and right now it was becoming rather clear to him that Loki had no discernible duties or plans ahead him and that Thor should have taken the time to talk to him about his options.

 

However, it was too late for that now and he walked back out, finding a guard and asking after Loki, trying very hard to sound nonchalant. Thankfully, his worries were needless. The guard informed him that the queen had come along earlier and the prince had left with her. Relieved, Thor walked the short distance towards his mother's chambers and as soon as he passed through her sitting room, he spotted Frigga and Loki walking through the gardens that were connected to his mother's rooms and for which she cared greatly.

 

They were beautiful even now in winter as the trees were tall and shapely and there were many rowan bushes scattered around the pebbled pathways and they provided a dash of colour in the otherwise subdued tones of the garden as they were still covered in red berries.

 

As Thor watched, Frigga leaned closer to Loki and told him something with a smile on her lips and a conspiring air about her; in response, Loki laughed loudly, throwing his head back in unguarded mirth. They both had yet to notice him and he slowed his steps, gazing at the scene. It was the first time that day that he felt true peace.

 

The pair he was watching stopped and Frigga turned to face Loki, taking his hands in hers and kept speaking until she noticed Thor over Loki's shoulder and nodded towards him. Loki turned around with a surprised looked on his face and for a moment a feeling of nervousness ran through Thor. Was he about to ruin the moment?

 

Loki's face lit up with a smile instead and he gently pulled his hands from Frigga's and waved to Thor. It was such a spontaneous, young gesture that it almost made Thor laugh.

 

Finally he made his way towards them. The garden was indeed tranquil and pleasant, though now that he was standing in the chill, he noticed that his mother was bundled in a long coat and many scarves, while Loki seemed perfectly comfortable in sleeveless tunic and loose trousers.

 

“Mother,” Thor greeted. “Loki.”

 

“Hello, my dear,” Frigga welcomed him with a kiss on the cheek and Loki nimbly slipped to Thor's side, taking his arm in his own. “How was you day?”

 

“Not very good, I'm afraid,” Thor admitted. Now that his mind was at least partially soothed, he was realizing just how harshly he had been acting towards the council. “But it's much better now that I am in such company.”

 

Frigga just smiled, used to such little comments from Thor, but Loki seemed to be rather fascinated and he laughed shortly, looking up at Thor almost as though he was expecting something.

 

Thor grew distracted momentarily by the way Loki pressed himself to him, having firmly hooked his harm under Thor's. And now they were sharing a look between them, waiting for the other to speak until it grew decidedly awkward. If Frigga weren't a queen and therefore above such indignities, Thor would say that the sound she made a couple of second into the embarrassing interlude was a snicker.

 

Loki cleared his throat and stepped perhaps half a step away from Thor, though their arms remained linked.

 

“So, what was it that caused your day to be so disagreeable?”

 

_The sight of you, naked, with the evidence of your pleasure all over your body._

 

The thought came unbidden and actually made Thor blush. He was filled with disbelief when he felt his cheeks heat up, as though he was a mere schoolboy.

 

“Council matters,” he replied and hoped that his pause went unnoticed, especially since he knew his mother's sharp eye was on him.

 

“Ah. Something serious?” Loki continued to inquire.

 

“No, nothing worrisome. It is simply that celebrations, no matter for how joyous occasion they are, can draw attention away from state matters. So there was need for the Council and I to catch up on rather great deal of things.”

 

Loki nodded, rather vigorously in Thor's opinion, and then a smirk appeared on his face. “Well perhaps next time lock your councilmen away from the celebrations and you might avoid it.”

 

Thor laughed, as did Frigga, even if Thor couldn't help thinking it was a rather odd joke. He forgot the thought almost immediately though and with a gesture of his hand, he invited Loki and Frigga to continue walking, while offering Frigga his free arm, which she took with a smile and they all strolled together like that. It was pleasing and relaxing indeed and he opted to listen to the conversation Loki and his mother were having rather than participating himself. It was hard to believe that the two of them barely knew each other, so at ease they were. With his mother it did not surprise him of course, but it was novel to see this side of Loki and he was very grateful for that. He had a quick mind and a rather sharp tongue too, even going as far as responding with quips when Frigga teased him good-naturedly. Thor laughed in that hour they spent in the garden together more than he had laughed in weeks.

 

They parted with a promise to dine with the queen soon and with a standing invitation for visiting any time he wanted extended to Loki.

 

“The queen was very kind,” Loki noted as they entered their chambers together after leaving Frigga's garden. A meal was already being served on the long table and Thor's mouth watered at the smell, which led him to realize he had skipped lunch.

 

“My mother is an extraordinary woman. I'm glad you enjoy spending time together,” Thor told him and sat down, nodding at the servant so that a bowl of soup would be served to him. “I'm sure she'd also be pleased to give you some lessons.”

 

As soon as the servants finished serving the soup, Thor dismissed them. The next course was meat and vegetables and it was easy to serve those without their help.

 

“Lessons?” Loki asked when the doors closed and Thor looked up, paying attention for the first time since they sat down to eat.

 

“Yes. Her skill with seidr is formidable and besides, she has great knowledge about just about any field I can think of... literature, history, music...”

 

Thor trailed off as Loki continued to stare at him with an expression that Thor couldn't quite decipher, but it was a decidedly unhappy one.

 

“Of course if you'd prefer to keep your relations with her strictly personal, other tutors can pick up those topics with you.”

 

Even as he was finishing the sentence, he knew perfectly well that he was not responding to Loki's question nor that he was pleasing him what he was saying. Loki's face fell completely blank and he looked straight at Thor across the table.

 

“So you mean to _school_ me.”

 

He said it with such derision that Thor was taken aback.

 

“Education is not the same thing as schooling, as you put it,” he replied coolly.

 

“Oh, so you feel I am not educated enough?” Loki's tone was growing more and more nasty and his features were skewed in anger.

 

“Loki,” Thor said slowly, barely holding on to his calm. “I do not know why this angers you. Your mother and I-”

 

“Yes, of course, my _mother-_ ”

 

“Loki!” Thor shouted, slamming his fist on the table so hard that the dishes cluttered about and one even fell off, having been placed too close to the edge. Loki was startled into silence and stared at Thor with his mouth open. Thor closed his eyes for a moment, overwhelmed. He could feel the blood pounding in his temples, a clear sign that he was losing control. That must not be.

 

“Loki, do not interrupt me,” he went on calmly, though his tone was still firm. “Your mother and I talked about your interest in magic and in knowledge in general. She explained that there were many things they were not able to give you due to the political affairs of Jotunheim and she beseeched me to offer you tutoring in all the fields you find interest in.”

 

It was almost painful, forcing those well crafted words past his lips, but sadly, he was well used to it. When his father died unexpectedly more than two centuries ago, he was barely ready to take the throne, but there was no other option. He had been hotheaded and quick to anger and clashed daily with the Council, and not just them. In the end, it was a daily struggle to learn to listen and to do what he knew was right instead of giving in to rash wants and impulses.

 

It did not escape Thor's notice that he seemed to be having trouble doing just so ever since he got married.

 

“Fine,” Loki bit out. “But I'd ask you to remember that _I_ am here, _I_ am your husband, not my parents, not my mother. And I'd ask that you consider asking me before making decisions about _myself_.”

 

And Thor was still angry and he found Loki's tone and the entire situation terribly childish, but there was also the uncomfortable truth – these thoughts had occurred to him before as well. He had promised himself he would treat Loki with consideration and he had failed to do that. It filled him with shame.

 

“Yes, of course,” he replied as evenly as possible. “The lessons are open to you. I hope you will take them up.”

 

Faced with agreement, Loki seemed at loss for a moment, but gathered himself shortly. “Yes, I believe I will.”

 

It was strange. In fact, little has changed between the beginning and the end of the conversation. Loki would fill his time with lessons, as was appropriate to his age. And yet it seemed as though much was revealed.

 

They both ate some, but the silence was uncomfortable and Thor could barely taste what he was eating. He knew there were more things he needed to say lest he show himself completely incapable of keeping his word, even if the word was given to himself only. He waited until Loki, having long since discarded the main course, finished eating several of the cakes they had been served and then spoke.

 

“If you don't mind, there is another issue I feel we should speak about.”

 

Loki regarded him warily and pushed away his napkin, standing up.

 

They walked onto the balcony together and were met with a sharp gust of wind; it was snowing.

 

“I must apologize,” Thor began and Loki turned to him, his face not bearing a hostile expression anymore, but not a terribly friendly one either. “You were correct in accusing me of relying on assumptions only. I think it's time we speak freely.”

 

“Yes?” Loki prompted. Once again, he was standing close to Thor, leaning on the railing lightly, completely mindless of the thin layer of snow that has piled up on top of it. These things should not be surprising Thor, but they were. He was not bothered by the cold very much, it could not really hurt him, but if there were a choice, he would gladly exchange it for the warmth of a hearth.

 

“Perhaps I am wrong and if so, I am very sorry and I hope you will not think less of me. But it is my impression that you... expected me to take you to bed. And it's prudent that you know that this was never my intention, not for a time to come.”

 

Loki's mouth fell open and he gave Thor an incredulous look.

 

“And may I ask why?”

 

The answer _you are too young_ was on the tip of Thor's tongue. But that wasn't really it, he grew to realize.

 

“We do not know each other.”

 

“So?” Loki shot back with a little snicker, face contorting in mockery. “We are married.”

 

“Aye, and we will be so for millennia to come. That leaves us enough time.”

 

Clearly Loki did not consider this a respectable answer.

 

“Is there something wrong with you? Or is there something wrong with me in your eyes?” he hissed, approaching Thor until their fronts were pressed together and he was leaning his head back considerably to keep Thor's gaze locked in his own.

 

Thor could hardly believe that he had gotten himself into this situation. He should have been more open from the start, instead of letting himself be held back by uncertainty and, as bad as that sounded, shame.

 

“Loki, please...” he sighed, catching Loki by the shoulders and trying to put some distance between them. “Of course I do not think there is something wrong with you and as far as I know, not with me either.”

 

“So, what is it then?” Loki's voice was jumping and for one horrified second Thor thought he might cry, but thankfully the red eyes were simply piercing him with an angry glare and remained dry.

 

By now, Thor knew better than to mention Farbauti and besides, she wasn't even the one who made up his mind about this.

 

_Be honest._

 

“I... it never occurred to me that you'd desire it.”

 

Loki stopped his struggling then and allowed Thor to hold him away by arm's length, even stepping further away so that Thor had to release him.

 

“And what of your desires? You are the king.”

 

Hearing those words was almost heart-breaking and in the light of what Loki has just said, Thor understood Farbauti's concern even better. The pieces fell together in mind and as sad (and slightly appalled) as it made him, he felt like he finally saw through what was happening.

 

Admittedly, his conviction had been slipping. Loki had been chipping away at his defences, with his nakedness and the way he was always touching Thor, showing trust through the closeness. In unguarded moments, Thor thought that perhaps a kiss wouldn't hurt, after all, he wanted to share bed with Loki _some time_ and what would be better than slowly working towards it? He would not be breaking his word, he would only strive to make them both happy. But that was a selfish desire, he could see that now.

 

_You are the king._

 

And to think that he almost gave in and took Loki's attempts to convince him of his want at face value. But even that wasn't so shocking, after all, he had guessed before that Loki _thought_ it was real. That he had some romanticized notion of what sex was like and that he was connecting those fantasies with Thor because that's what he was told he should do.

 

Thor was absolutely not going to hurt him by proving him wrong, no matter how angry with Thor it would make him.

 

_He'll thank me when he's older._

 

“Loki, I am sorry, but it will not be, not for a long time.”

 

Loki opened his mouth in outrage and slammed his open palm onto the railing, spraying snow everywhere. The weather was getting worse and Thor knew he was causing it.

 

“You are not answering any of my questions! You are treating me like a child though you have just promised you wouldn't!”

 

Even as Loki seemed to spiral into rage, Thor was finding it easy to remain calm, perhaps because he was once again perfectly sure of what he should do.

 

“I have told you the truth. I was not planning on consummating our marriage with haste because we are not barbarians who consider this necessary and so far, nothing has changed my mind about it.”

 

Loki, who seemed to be all but vibrating in anger, as though he was barely controlling himself and wanted nothing more then to slap Thor upside down, suddenly stilled, mouth falling open.

 

He spoke very slowly, pronouncing every word carefully. “I have asked you... to take me to bed and your response is... no, because you have made up your mind and decided not to do it.”

 

Thor just nodded, knowing there was no salvaging the situation.

 

“So you are _uninterested_ in what I want,” Loki continued, spitting with contempt.

 

“Which seems to be mutual,” Thor answered without thinking it through and Loki's face fell blank again, which he only saw for a second as in the next moment Loki turned away from Thor. His shoulders slumped forward minutely and then his back heaved perhaps three, four times with heavy breaths before he straightened again.

 

“Understood,” came a single word, steady, but with a nasal tone to it that left Thor almost no doubt that the tears finally came.

 

He didn't attempt to stop Loki as he walked away, disappearing into the rooms. Instead he looked around himself in dismay, the snow was falling so thickly now that he could see only a very short distance forward and the strong wind was scattering the snowflakes everywhere in large whirlwinds.

 

He had done the right thing, clearly. Kept his word. Gave Loki the explanations he was asking for.

 

And yet he knew it would not stop snowing for a very long time.

 


	5. Saett

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I am back! The delay between chapters was a little longer now that I strive for, so sorry about that!

He managed to ignore Thor for whole three days.

 

He would leave the room if Thor walked in. He would ignore any questions and pretend he wasn't listening when Thor attempted to make explanation of his 'harsh words', as he put it.

 

He relived and thought through their conversation that night many, many times, each time coming out of it with the same, angry result. Thor was acting in a cruel, senseless way; perhaps he was hiding something, perhaps he was simply inclined to say and do strange things that Loki could not possibly understand. Doubts flitted through his mind constantly – what did he do wrong? What was wrong with Thor? He was not one to believe simple denials without explanations.

 

And so he settled on being silent and unresponsive, hoping it would help him gauge some kind of a reaction of Thor's. And for those three days, even in face of Loki's silence, Thor tried to talk to him, citing Loki's youth, the novelty of their situation, even Farbauti's words. He was asking Loki to stop and consider. To give them both time. His explanations were many and heart-felt and Loki ignored him with gusto, enjoying the bereft look upon his husband's face.

 

Except that after those three days, Thor ceased doing all of it.

 

Loki was sitting in their living chamber with the hearth fire doused and all the windows open to let the chill in and he was reading with his feet propped up when Thor walked in, looked at Loki briefly and disappeared into the bedroom.

 

And that was new. He sat there, stunned. Thor had always greeted him at least and it was most likely he would attempt to start a conversation. Before he could talk himself out of it, he threw the book away and dashed towards the bedroom, hoping to do or say something that would explain this odd turn of events and that would perhaps break through the unchanging, painful situation of last days – after all, he saw himself as the only one who could do so.

 

He was tempted to dash back out again when he threw the door open and found Thor standing there in the middle of the room, arms folded across his chest, looking straight at Loki as though he was expecting him to do just that – run after Thor.

 

“You've gone to great lengths to try and tell me that you were not a child, Loki,” Thor spoke before Loki had a chance to react. “Are you perhaps ready to act like it?”

 

“Are you ready to apologize?” Loki shot back, trying his hardest to hide how flustered he was.

 

“For upsetting you? Yes.”

 

That stubborn bastard. Loki took a second to breathe and he straightened up, looking Thor square in the eye. This was not exactly how he'd imagined this conversation would go, but he needed to seize the moment.

 

“Are you ready to _not_ treat me as a child?” he pursued his goal relentlessly, ignoring everything else.

 

Thor didn't move since Loki came in, maintaining his posture with crossed arms, standing firmly on feet planted a bit apart. Perhaps it could even be said he looked intimidating, but Loki wasn't fooled. He recalled his fearful excitement upon seeing Thor fight in the arena on the eve of their wedding, but those feelings were all but gone. It was just as Thor said and he finally understood. That man was in the past. This Thor was not dangerous.

 

Loki was almost disappointed.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

He blinked. Another concession?

 

Thor loosened his stance and approached Loki, his steps laced with an odd kind of grace. Loki almost stepped back instinctively, his previous derision forgotten for a second until he righted himself and lifted his chin. Thor stopped more than a step away from Loki though and a corner of his mouth lifted.

 

“Go get changed.”

 

“Into what?” Loki asked warily, forgetting to protest such an order; that's how intrigued he was.

 

“Something comfortable. Practical. We're going out of the city.”

 

And with that, Thor left the bedroom, not looking back to check if Loki would do as he was bid. He stood there, mouth gaping. So insolent. How dare he? And yet. Yet it was nothing like their previous arguments. There was something different about Thor and the way he acted. He was being almost playful. He wasn't treading as carefully as before and it was refreshing.

 

Too curious to resist, Loki threw open the door of his closet. Thor had been wearing dark brown leather pants and long-sleeved red tunic of dense linen with a matching leather vest thrown over it; it was very casual, though of course still flattering. Since he was constantly on the verge of feeling almost too warm ever since he arrived to Asgard, Loki followed Thor's lead only in the choice of trousers, he picked a very comfortable pair of soft leather and with it he decided for a green, sleeveless shirt which was a gift from Frigga. Mindful of the mention of going out of city, he finished the outfit with high laced boots and walked out after Thor.

 

Thor took him to a part of the palace he hasn't visited yet and soon they were out on the fresh air. It was very... bright that day, that was the best Loki could describe it. The air smelled clean and washed comfortably over his skin; he took it to mean that for Aesir standards it was cold. There was not a cloud to be seen on the sky and the sun paled the blue to almost white-grey. Loki did not get to enjoy the crisp smelling air for long though as a weird odour soon reached his nose.

 

“Where are we going?” he asked, lengthening his steps to keep up with Thor who suddenly sped up, almost bouncing on his feet.

 

“These are the stables,” Thor replied unhelpfully, flashing a smile at Loki over his shoulder.

 

That explained the smell at least. They came to a small yard and there were two horses waiting, one black and one red, both saddled. A stable boy held them at their nuzzles.

 

“I would like us to go for a ride. It's a beautiful day,” Thor explained, finally turning to Loki, beaming. Loki could just mutely stare up at him, searching for words. Behind Thor, one of the beasts snorted and stomped.

 

“Thor-”

 

“Please. I know it's not precisely what you asked of me, but... I would like us to spend time together.”

 

Loki felt completely, utterly ridiculous. Gone was the playfulness he had noted in Thor, now he looked merely earnest and hopeful. It ruined any ideas he had about offering up a false excuse.

 

“I have never ridden a horse.”

 

A shocked expression appeared on Thor's face immediately and slowly melted into one of horrified realization. Loki thought that maybe he should be mad, but he instead burst out in laughter as Thor continued to stare at him, apparently at loss for words.

 

“Loki, I'm so sorry, I didn't realize-”

 

Loki placed a hand on Thor's chest, pushing him lightly. “It's all right.”

 

He found himself appreciating this effort. More time spent with Thor in such a manner meant more opportunities to convince Thor to... change his mind.

 

Because he was far from done.

 

Thor recovered meanwhile from his clear bout of embarrassment. “Well then, why don't I teach you how to ride?”

 

“It'd be my pleasure,” Loki smiled, inching his way even closer to Thor and dropping his voice a little, as though he didn't want the stable boy to hear. Thor turned and nodded at the man, taking the horses from him and started leading them away.

 

“I may not know much about horse-riding, but I'm rather certain one does not ride in the stable!” Loki called out after Thor when he entered the building. Loki failed to fall into step with him, as Thor had a horse by every shoulder and Loki was disinclined to step directly behind the beasts' backsides.

 

“That's true. But these are not horses for beginners, I will put them away and pick a more suitable one. Come along!”

 

Keeping a respectful distance, Loki followed and saw Thor ushering each horse into a stall. In quick, smooth motions he began unsaddling them.

 

“Why not leave it to the stable boy?” Loki asked, even though it was certainly interesting to watch.

 

“I like horses,” Thor shrugged. “It's good to be around them sometimes, not just ride them. It creates connection.”

 

“Hm. Very wise. Perhaps I should keep it in mind.”

 

Thor shot him a brief, disbelieving look and pretended not to hear the remark. Loki pursed his lips. Perhaps that was not the best of jokes.

 

Soon Thor was done and he beckoned Loki to walk along the many stalls to another part of the stable. All along the way the horses were sticking out their heads, sniffing with furry muzzles. Loki was uncertain whether he liked them or not; they smelled rather unpleasantly and were rather intimidating in their size, but their hide seemed to be very soft and they had lovely, curious eyes. He told himself to hold the judgement until he _sat_ on one.

 

“There we go,” Thor murmured and they approached a grey horse who immediately headbutted into Thor's chest once he got close enough and Thor responded by enthusiastic petting, stroking the horse's muzzle and patting its neck.

 

“Come. Meet Saett.”

 

Filled with doubt, Loki reached out and touched the horse's nose lightly and slid lower to the soft muzzle. That was really quite lovely. Then the horse began sniffing at him noisily and he was tempted to snatch his hand but bore it until the uncertainty faded.

 

“See? She's friendly and calm. Let me saddle her and we can begin.”

 

The horse stood calmly as Thor worked and Loki, even in his inexperience with these beasts, could see the difference between this one and the ones that had been readied for their ride. He supposed that Thor knew what he was doing and he relaxed, leaning against the wall and enjoying the sight of him.

 

“All done,” Thor announced shortly after and they walked out to the yard and across it to a fenced space that was meant for training the horses. There he stopped the horse and beckoned to Loki.

 

“From the left side,” he pointed, letting go of his hold at the horse's muzzle. “Peace, Saett, peace.”

 

Loki was busy frowning at the animal in front of him and he didn't notice at first how close had Thor stepped, coming to stand almost behind Loki until a warm palm was placed at his left thigh. He jerked in sheer surprise, spinning around and almost falling head first into Thor's chest.

 

“Careful,” Thor laughed, steadying Loki by the shoulders. Loki swallowed, trying to right himself. The way that laugh rumbled out of Thor's chest...

 

“Now,” Thor continued, almost manhandling Loki so that he was facing the horse again before releasing him with one hand and putting it back onto Loki's leg. “Your left foot goes into the stir-up. Grab the saddle, put your foot in and pull yourself up. Don't forget to kick off the ground with your right leg.”

 

Loki did as Thor described, reaching up to grab the front side of the saddle and manoeuvring his left leg until his foot was in the right position.

 

“Good, like that. Now, steady. Put some force behind it, so that you don't kick her rump,” Thor coached and then – as though he meant to demonstrate what _rump_ was - he placed his hands on _Loki's_.

 

Loki wished the damn animal wasn't there. Thor's palms were hot even through the leather he was wearing, gently pushing him in the right direction of the jump he was supposed to do and his mind was reeling, unsure what to focus on. There was a large, possibly unpredictable beast that he was meant to ride. He was determined to learn how, but at the same time uncertain about the process and now there was Thor, distracting him horribly. He wanted Thor's hands on him, yes, but damn, he as going to fall on his head if -

 

“Loki...?” Thor prompted and the warmth of his hands disappeared from Loki's skin.

 

“Yes, yes, I was... searching for equilibrium,” he told Thor quickly and then heaved himself up to cover up his momentary fluster. And there he was, sitting astride the horse. He barely noticed how that happened.

 

“There you are! You will be a natural,” Thor praised, ducking under the horse's neck so that he could slip to its other side and grasp Loki's right ankle and push it through the second stir-up. “The stir-up needs to be perhaps at one third the length of your foot, closer to the tip.”

 

As Thor continued giving more and more instructions, he also continued touching Loki. His foot and ankle being manipulated into the right place. A light pat on his calf and thigh to demonstrate that that was where he was meant to put strength if he wished to remain safely seated. Thor's fingers entwined with his as he was shown how to hold the reins. Delicious pressure of Thor's hand pressing at the small of his back to make him sit up straighter.

 

It was a wonder he learned anything.

 

But he did, putting a lid on his excitement, promising himself to relive every second of touch later (and there was more that occurred to him. Perhaps Thor would not stop after they were done with the lesson... perhaps they would return to their chambers together and he would feel the heat of Thor's skin on his own again...). He managed to lead the horse along the fence and then make turns and ride in various shapes as Thor described, learning how to make the horse respond to what he wanted of it.

 

It was... fun. His horse was obedient, but he could still feel that it was a living, thinking animal underneath him; constantly vibrating with the potential of doing something unpredictable – spook and flee, throw him off... His world narrowed to the feeling on the horse between his legs, the careful hold he had on the reins as he used it to communicate gently with the animal and Thor's voice leading him through it.

 

“Would you care to try trotting?” Thor asked with a teasing edge to his tone after Loki somewhat mastered the horse.

 

“That's a funny word for running, yes?” Loki smirked right back.

 

“One of the two, perhaps three gaits that horses use.”

 

Loki was about to agree – he was sure he could handle it – but an idea stopped him.

 

“Not today,” he replied. “But some other time maybe? Soon?”

 

Thor inclined his head, still smiling. Loki had noticed that it was not terribly hard to bring a smile to Thor's face if one wished it.

 

“I'll be happy to teach you everything. After all, you promised to go for a ride with me.”

 

“And so I shall, when I'm sure this-” he patted the horse's neck approvingly, “-beast won't run off with me.”

 

“Then it is settled.”

 

Dismounting Saett was another experience to remember, not just because of the novelty of it, but also because Thor stood close, waiting to steady Loki. Loki did not stumble on purpose, of course not, but as his feet touched the ground, his knees almost gave out and he felt a previously unknown strain in the muscles of his entire legs. And so once again he fell right into Thor's chest. So no, he did not stumble on purpose, but during his next lesson, he just might.

 

On the way back to their chambers Thor entertained Loki with tales of his own first experiences with horses from when he was a boy, considerably younger than Loki and also quite more reckless. Loki was bent over laughing as Thor described in vivid detail the way he hung by the side of the saddle as his first horse tore through the streets of Asgard in break-neck speed, narrowly missing all of the many obstacles in their way.

 

“Well,” he said once he was able to speak without snickering. “I'm sure you are more skilled these days.”

 

“Oh, I believe I was very skilled even back then. I did not fall, did I?” Thor retorted with a cocky smile and Loki's mouth dried out at the sight of that grin and a new pang of desire ran through him. This man was... so frustrating at times, but so irresistible at many others. And not just physically, Loki mused, with his behaviour as well. Just this morning, Loki had been still deeply mad and yet somewhat he had been whisked away for an afternoon of unparalleled fun, unable to not enjoy himself even if he tried. And Thor had planned it just for him – oh, it was no matter that they didn't quite go for the ride that Thor had in mind, it was the thought that counted and the grace with which Thor changed the plans when he realized his small error. In a brief moment of cynical introspection, Loki realized that it had been perhaps the first time in his life that he reacted calmly to being forced to face his own lack of skill.

 

Thor did indeed continue to fascinate Loki.

 

As they entered their chambers, Loki realized with slight dismay that the stench of horse was still clinging to him. He was already on his way to liking the previously unknown animal, but the stink was quite annoying.

 

“I need to bathe,” he announced carelessly and then steeled himself, trying to keep his tone of voice even. “Care to join me?”

 

He didn't realize how expectant of rejection he was until he was faced with agreement.

 

“If you wish,” Thor said very quietly and his gaze bore into Loki with some unidentifiable emotion behind it.

 

“Yes,” Loki replied firmly, ignoring the jitters. “Yes, I wish it.”

 

He has glimpsed Thor naked before and he had no qualms about showing his own bare skin, but still it was novel to be standing there in the well lit bathroom and get undressed in such close proximity. Loki opted to pretend to ignore Thor for the time being, reaching to turn on the facet and start filling the large, sink in tub. He picked one of the many oils that were placed close by and poured it generously in. His mother used to have a selection of oils and fragrances too which she closely guarded and rarely let Loki sample. As he grew older, he began to realize why that was. Now with the Casket in his family's possession, travel would be possible and trade and wealth would come to Jotunheim again. Still, all the flasks and flagons presented so matter-of-factly for his use often captured his attention and he was pressed to try and enjoy them all, though he certainly meant to keep his excitement private.

 

He hardly had to pretend to not pay attention to what he was pouring into the water today though; Thor had finished undressing and was standing naked by the tub, pulling his hair up in a small knot at the top of his head. Swallowing, Loki slipped into the water.

 

It could be said he was enjoying the view, though what he was feeling was by no means as simple as _enjoyment_. His gaze travelled up the length of Thor's bare body; he was thickly muscled, but so tall that he retained a sense of elegance rather than shapeless bulk. His legs were long and perfectly shaped, from defined calves covered in light blonde hair up to very strong thighs. His cock seemed large even in its calm state, hanging by a symmetrical pair of balls. To Loki, Thor's scrotum looked very unlike his own, it hung much lower and took up more space; he had a feeling that was a difference shared by the whole race. Thor's stomach was impossibly defined, with deep dimples by his hipbones, turning into neat hills of muscle. And that was where Thor turned broad – his chest and shoulders were positively bulging, as were his arms.

 

Just as Loki started to think that perhaps Thor was lingering on purpose, to show off (oh and how that thought pleased Loki) he stepped into the water, grimacing.

 

“Oh,” Loki breathed. “It's cold for you.”

 

To his own skin, the water was almost scalding, though pleasantly so – he wanted to soothe his aching muscles.

 

“It is, but it's hardly unbearable. I have swam in waters much colder, though usually that was a lake or a river. I like my bathtubs hot.”

 

Despite his words, Thor submerged fully and stretched on his back with his head and spread arms resting on the edge of the tub.

 

Loki did not reply, he didn't have the words really, thinking about Thor's willingness to be here with him. Thor meanwhile apparently did some thinking of his own.

 

“This water,” he ran a finger across the surface as if to demonstrate, “feels hot to you then?”

 

“Yes, it does.”

 

“And the weather outside? Today for example?”

 

“Today was very pleasant, unlike some of the previous days,” Loki replied honestly, curious about Thor's line of questioning... He did worry about the climate as well after all.

 

Thor stared at the surface for a while, drawing nonsense shape with his finger dragged through the water. Then he looked up, smiling softly at Loki.

 

“We shall talk to my mother or some of your seidr tutors. Spring will come soon and I fear the temperature would become unbearable for you.”

 

“It occurred to me as well. I noticed however some interesting... differences between the sensation I feel in this realm.”

 

Loki bit his lip, trying to stifle a laugh. Thor beckoned for him to continue, a concerned frown on his face.

 

“See,” Loki continued, kicking off the side of the tub and floating towards towards Thor. “The _air_ is often uncomfortable. It's so... hot and moist. Makes it hard to breathe. But other... _surfaces,_ though understandably just as hot, perhaps hotter, feel pleasant to the touch.”

 

He let the water slowly deposit him by Thor's side as the momentum of his swim lap disappeared. Thor didn't move, letting his arms rest spread as before, he simply inclined his head to the side to watch Loki closely. Loki sat close to Thor, but not too close, just letting their sides brush lightly from time to time in rhythm with the subtle ripples of the water.

 

“ _You_ , for example,” Loki whispered, placing his open palm at Thor's chest, just above the waterline. “feel just right.”

 

He got no reaction from Thor other than a steady look trained at his face. Seeing it as a challenge, he slid his palm up and down Thor's chest, very pleased with the feeling of the rise and fall of it as Thor breathed. He made sure a thumb brushed over a nipple, but only a slightly hitched breath (if he didn't imagine it, that is) was his reply.

 

Everything that Thor has said or done before has led Loki to believe that either he would be stopped, and what more, that he would be stopped with a lecture or that he would be allowed to continue with an admission of Thor's mistaken thinking. Nothing happened though, Thor did not move nor say anything to to encourage or discourage Loki.

 

Curious where this would lead, Loki pressed himself even closer to Thor and leaned over to brush his lips over Thor's cheeks, the whiskers of his beard tingling Loki's skin. Loki smiled smugly when Thor didn't move away, but any ideas he had about making a remark about it disappeared into thin air when one of Thor's arms slid down from the tub's edge and he wrapped it around Loki's waist, placing his hand just low enough on Loki's body to make Loki's insides twitch in unknown emotion. Thor's embrace was gentle and yet it felt almost restraining. Almost.

 

It was not unpleasant. It wasn't and yet Loki felt wary. What now? What did it mean?

 

He looked up at Thor, eyes narrowed in suspicion but Thor seemed perfectly relaxed, leaning back with his eyes closed.

 

“Thor,” Loki started, though he didn't know how to continue.

 

“Mhmm?” The murmur was Thor's only reply and he didn't move nor open his eyes, though his thumb began brushing lightly over Loki's skin underneath the water's surface, just above Loki's hipbone.

 

“You are acting differently,” Loki accused.

 

“Does it please you?”

 

Loki had to blink and clear his throat lightly before he could even think of responding; Thor spoke in such a low voice, it almost felt like a sensual whisper... and the way he said _please you_... to his chagrin, Loki felt his cock stiffening slightly.

 

“And what if I say yes?”

 

“Then I might admit I was acting like a fool. In some things, anyway.”

 

Loki's breath hitched. _Yes._ Now if he could just convince Thor further...

 

Before he could speak, Thor raised his head from the edge and opened his eyes, looking at Loki with such a burning intensity in his eyes that Loki froze, transfixed.

 

“I want you to be happy, Loki. I truly do,” Thor whispered, in that beautiful gravely tone that Loki already grew to love so much. Then he leaned forward and kissed the corner of Loki's mouth. Loki's heart was pounding in expectation, but Thor drew back, locking his gaze with Loki's again.

 

“Let me try and make you happy, please.”

 

Fighting against the torrent of sensations he was feeling – Thor's arm around him, the lingering feeling of his kiss, the most intimate one they have shared so far – Loki slowly surfaced and came to his senses, trying to understand what Thor was trying to say. Thor waited patiently, calmly looking at Loki. His face was framed by messy strands of hair that escaped the bun he had piled on top of his head and he was... mesmerizing almost and his gaze was becoming unbearable. Honest and levelled and yet – or maybe precisely because of it – it made Loki want to squirm.

 

“In your own way, you mean. Not mine.”

 

Oh, he was ready to argue again. Press his point over and over again and if that didn't work, he could straddle Thor, press his cock (which was still half-hard) to Thor's stomach and just make him understand finally -

 

“Don't you trust me?” Thor asked huskily, his lips slowly curving into an impossible, ridiculous smug smile. His eyebrows rose slightly and he was radiating cockiness and – damn everything – such seductiveness that Loki was speechless once again. “Did you not enjoy yourself today? Let me show you more. Everything in this realm, and more, is open to us.”

 

“You know, I will hold you to that,” he replied equally quietly, not trusting himself to speak out loud. “There is a lot I will demand.”

 

“I'm counting on it.”

 

“And at the end of it?”

 

“There will not be an end to it, not until I am an old, withered man. But yes. Some time.”

 

The conversation was made of shared breaths and whispers, the words flowing between them in quick tension but when it was done, it seemed like any distance or caution was not needed anymore. Thor held Loki at his side and Loki placed his head on Thor's shoulder and they stayed like that until Thor admitted that the water was too uncomfortable for him and they slipped out, just in time to call for dinner.

 

“Now,” Thor smiled, pulling a tunic over his head an emerging with hair sticking out in all directions. “Have you ever tasted elven wine?”

 

“I have not,” Loki grinned, folding his arms over his chest. “Would you care to help me remedy that?”

 

“With pleasure.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your positive feedback. I intend to have fun with this fic and I'm always happy to hear that someone else is having it too :D  
> [takemetothedungeons.tumblr.com](http://takemetothedungeons.tumblr.com).


	6. Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The biggest thanks to Mona for beta-reading this chapter for me!

_Three months later_

 

Thor tapped his foot impatiently even as his lips twitched with his efforts to suppress a smile.

 

“Almost done!” came a muffled shout from behind the closed doors.

 

“You have been saying for quite a while now!” he called back, chuckling to himself. As good-natured as their exchange was, Thor was slightly worried. A glance outside revealed a very typical sight of Asgardian spring – warm and bright. Rains were common of course, often a courtesy of Thor himself as he brought clouds in to water the crops, but sometimes the temperatures rose high. And that was just spring – the summer that would come after would be scorching hot.

 

“All right. You may come in!” Loki called out finally and Thor hurried to the door, not bothering to hide how curious he was.

 

He was stopped in his tracks as soon as he walked through and spotted Loki. In the months of their marriage he had more than enough time to get used to the – to him unusual – blue complexion of his husband and seeing him suddenly without it was almost more shocking than meeting him at first. Loki was standing in front of him, arms lightly spread in a 'well?' gesture. He was dressed only in leather shorts that ended far above his knees and a sleeveless tunic from a material so light it was almost see through – clothing he took to wearing in the last weeks as spring came and he could barely stand the heat.

 

Thor would never forget the fear he felt when a guard hurried to him during a council meeting and whispered that prince Loki was unwell. He was quickly led to their chambers and found Loki on his private sitting room, Frigga accompanying him. Loki had almost fainted from the heat during his lesson and his temperature had to be restored. The windows had been blacked out to stop the sunshine from coming in and the room chilled to almost freezing. Loki was lying on his back on the couch, covered in hills of snow that he seemed to have patted onto himself, all courtesy of Frigga's seidr. It worked, but it was, of course, only a temporary solution.

 

The pale, Aesir skin Loki wore now was the long-term one.

 

He was still recognizable and yet utterly different. The gentle markings were gone, as were his red eyes. Stepping closer, Thor was amazed by how green they were instead.

 

“How do you feel?” he asked in wonder, reaching out to touch one of Loki's bare arms.

 

“It's odd, but it's certainly a relief. I feel almost cold now,” Loki admitted, rising his shoulders in a little shiver. That prompted Thor to reach for him, rubbing his open palms up and down Loki's arms.

 

“You are still very warm to touch,” Loki smiled, stepping to Thor's embrace. Thor kissed the top of his head, holding him close for a moment, relief flooding him.

 

“And the seidr? Is it not a strain to maintain this?” he inquired, pulling back to look at Loki again.

 

“Not anymore. That's what took the longest to learn, not the change itself.” Suddenly smiling, Loki continued. “Will you take me to a market or to some good vendors soon? I need to buy a gift for the queen. I would have never managed without her help.”

 

“Of course!” Thor nodded, excited and very pleased about the idea. For some time now, Loki hadn't left the palace, often taking sanctuary in his chilled sitting room. It was a marked change from the winter, when , they explored the city together, just as Thor had promised. Walks, picnics, small parties with only a few people invited – those that Loki had met and expressed an interest in during his short time in Asgard – occupied their time together. Thor had also discovered that Loki had quite a penchant for receiving gifts and was glad to shower him in a plethora of jewellery, clothing, books, and even weapons when Loki professed a proclivity for blades, especially daggers.

 

“Thank you. Now, let me change. I don't want to catch a chill,” Loki snickered.

 

While Thor waited as Loki rummaged through his closet lengthily, his mind wandere d.  He'd felt more as ease in the last few months and now, without the worry for Loki's health, happiness began to settle in.  Things had been set to rights between them when Thor realized his mistakes and remembered that affection and attention were not the same things as some sort of pushy, bold behaviour. He had been so desperate to make Loki feel safe that he made him feel unwanted instead. 

* * *

 

“ _So, do you think he is drunk enough now to tell us why is brooding so much?” Sif turned to Brunnhilde as though Thor wasn't there and he sighed into his goblet. They were cooped up in a corner of a lively, but rather small pub, with the noise and hustle serving as insurance of privacy. Listening to Sif and Brunnhilde talk and banter, without joining in, was quite relaxing in his current state, but that didn't mean the strain of the last days had disappeared from his shoulders completely._

 

“ _It's Loki. We had a fight,” he said briefly and then took a large gulp of his wine. “I'm quite certain he considers me the worst cold-blooded bastard in the world now.”_

 

“ _Cold-blooded?” Brunnhilde boggled at him. “That doesn't sound very much like you, Thor.”_

 

_Sif meanwhile narrowed his eyes at him. “Let me guess. He wanted_ something _and you told him no.”_

 

“ _Ooh,” Brunnhilde mouthed, understanding Sif's hint._

 

“ _Of course I told him no,” Thor protested. “He has this... idea that he must please me.”_

 

“ _Does he?” Sif snorted. “Is that why you are out here in the cold after what I imagine was a screaming match? Seems like he's the one who wants to be pleased.”_

 

“ _I cannot possibly trust him to make that decision.”_

 

“ _Thor, that must sound like nonsense even to your ears,” Brunnhilde shook her head. Thor looked at the bottom of his empty goblet. It sounded like nonsense indeed._

 

“ _You need to try another approach, my friend,” Sif told him with confidence and reached for a pitcher, pouring more wine._

 

_Thor knew well enough not to ignore his friends' good advice. It had never done him any good in his youth._

 

_So he came up with an idea._

 

* * *

 

Loki finally emerged, breaking Thor's line of thought. The leather trousers he wore were more in line with Asgardian fashion than that of Jotunheim, and it made Thor smile. It also confirmed his suspicion that Frigga had been sending steady streams of clothing to Loki. His vest and tunic were very fashionable, cut in a flattering manner and richly adorned with embroidery and gold chains.

 

Loki approached Thor, not looking where he was going as he was tugging at his long sleeves and murmuring something about not remembering the last time he wore those. The happiness he felt swelled through his chest, and Thor cupped Loki's face in both hands, kissing him. Loki made a sound in the back of his throat, a little yelp of surprise, but then Thor felt him tipping his head back and slotting his lips against Thor's. It was not precisely their first kiss, but it was certainly the most daring one, especially when Loki soon wrapped his arms around Thor and tugged himself close, parting his mouth to deepen the kiss.

 

The warmth of him was new, but the slightly over-excited clumsiness that Thor couldn't help but find endearing was not. This time was different, though. As the kiss went on, Loki became more confident, his tongue peeking out of his mouth to slide along Thor's lips. He was a quick learner; his tutors said as much every time Thor checked on his progress. Soon Loki was boldly sliding his tongue against Thor's, tracing the lines of his mouth and nipping and licking gently, and there was nothing clumsy about it. And yet Thor let it go on, his heart speeding with the sweetness of it. It was only when he felt himself unmistakably hardening that he began to ease out of the kiss, making sure to tilt his hips away from Loki. They both sucked in deep breath when they parted and Thor smoothed Loki's hair back, reluctant to let go of him completely. For a moment, Loki looked a little dazed, but then his reddened lips curled into a smirk and he pointedly glanced down.

 

Thor rolled his eyes and swiped a thumb across Loki's lower lip gently, wiping away the moisture.

 

“Well, where would you like to go?”

 

“Outside,” Loki replied immediately, seeming to fully tear his attention away from Thor – and the kiss – as he turned to look out of the window with clear desire.

 

And so they did, heading out of the palace without any clear direction or destination in mind. Spring was in full bloom and the activity outside reflected it. The streets were filled with people bustling about in all directions, some slow and relaxed, smiling and pointing to the vendors' showcases, some almost running in their haste. Floral scents filled the air as almost every shop and every house put flowerpots with fresh, spring blooms at their doors.

 

The excitement in Loki's steps was unmistakable; he had truly been hindered by the temperature and now all but flew towards the colourful excitement of Asgard in spring and Thor happily followed him, pointing out places of interest and nodding towards all the people who respectfully inclined their heads before him. Many curious eyes fell on Loki as well. Thor realized that his Aesir skin probably helped many of them to view him in a more pleasant light. It was a sobering thought, but the clear joy Loki took in walking the streets of their city was probably even more important to the onlookers.

 

“That looks like an impressive store,” Loki pointed all of a sudden, motioning towards an expensive-looking, large – and rather oddly decorated – house. Thor gave it a brief look over; exotic and maybe a little eccentric, but certainly suitable for what they were looking for.

 

“Let's go inside then.”

 

As they entered, Loki quizzed Thor on whether Frigga's preferences lay in rings, necklaces, bracelets... Thor suggested hairpins. “You can choose even the most extravagant pieces and she will still be able to wear them.”

 

Loki hummed excitedly and dove deeper into the store. Thor preferred to keep his distance, staying toward the front and idly browsing whatever was showcased there. He didn't mind shopping when he had a clear goal in mind, but waiting around and searching for nothing in particular didn't please him much.

 

It was no price to pay for the happiness he had found though. His lovely young husband, eager to find the perfect gift of thanks for his mother; that was indeed a sign of a good life. Giving up all pretence of interest in the goods, Thor leaned against a wall and thought back to their kiss. It was sensual, so much though that perhaps it crossed the line he had drawn for Loki and himself, but there was no regret in his heart, only confirmation of what he already believed. Loki wanted to be loved, to be _wanted,_ and once Thor started showing his affection, Loki seemed quite happy and not at all greedy, at least not unsuitably so, for more. So Thor understood that he had been both right and wrong: right to deny them rushing into bed, but wrong to keep Loki at arms' length.

 

A short, wiry man emerged the front of the store and bowed to Thor deeply.

 

“Your highness,” he addressed Thor, who acknowledged him with a 'good day.'

“You do me an honor, sire.” Used to such flattery, he though nothing of the interruption of his thoughts, until the man continued speaking in a low, oddly rushed voice. “We are very pleased to welcome you and your consort in our humble store. Perhaps you would like to step this way and join your husband in browsing the merchandise?”

 

As subserviently as the request was posed, Thor couldn't shake the feeling of impudence at its core and he frowned, ready to refuse. He stayed away for a reason. But before he had a chance to speak, he noticed the nervous flick of the shopkeeper's eyes and realized that something was off. This was not the usual visage of the seller.

 

“Indeed. He is choosing a present for the queen and might need my help,” he announced, hoping to sound as natural as possible. Visibly relieved, the short man gestured towards the back of the shop and Thor headed there.

 

Coming into a large room that was lit enough to allow browsing but dim enough to seem cosy, Thor saw that Loki was not alone, which was not surprising given the size and variety of the store, but what was odd was that Loki seemed to be focused more on the other customer than he was on the merchandise.

 

Before Thor could grasp what was unfolding in front of him, Loki noticed his presence and turned his attention firmly towards him.

 

“Thor!” He smiled, but it seemed a little brittle. “I have made some selections. Come help me pick the final one.”

 

Making his way over to Loki, Thor realized he actually _knew_ the other patron, and immediately understood the palpable undercurrent of tension moving through the room. Lady Amora. Thor's breath hitched in unpleasant shock and he hurried to Loki's side.

 

“Well, see, I was thinking...” Loki began and started pointing at the assorted jewellery in front of them. He continued his descriptions and suggestions in a steady voice, and while all he was saying sounded right to Thor, he couldn't shake the feeling that Loki was babbling. When he was finished, Thor turned his attention quickly to the items in front of them, but he had no idea what Loki had said or what his reaction should be.

 

Silence filled the room, and it stretched on as Thor's train of thought sputtered out completely. Honestly, all he had to do was point at whichever of the jewels in front of him and say something completely inconsequential about it, and yet the whole situation was so uncomfortable that he became more tongue tied that he could ever remember being, at least since he'd grown a beard.

 

Then a clear, loud snicker broke the silence.

 

“Oh dear,” Amora whispered. Already irritated, Thor whipped around, ready to tell her to keep her comments to herself.

 

It was bad enough seeing her in the first place. Finding her alone with Loki was even worse, and he had no doubt that those short minutes were enough for her to do some damage. Thor dreaded what she may have said to Loki. There was almost no one who knew what lead to her five century exile; Thor himself barely remembered when it ended, but apparently it had and, judging by the paleness of Loki's new face and his blank expression, she was back to her old habits.

 

He didn't get a chance to say anything though as another snicker was almost immediately followed by a scream. Thor watched as huge black beetles ran all over her arms and burrowed under her dress. Thor was not squeamish by any stretch of imagination, but the sight was horrifying - their crawling motions and large, clicking antlers were repulsive.

 

Still shrieking, she flung a large, golden necklace away. As it hit the ground, Thor saw that its settings were empty of the the gems that must have been adorning it. Next to him, Loki stood with a clear sneer on his face, arms folded over his chest. He neither moved nor said anything even as Amora finally got a grip on herself and started mumbling enchantments in a cracking voice and the beetles started to disappear.

 

“Your highness,” she spat finally, her otherwise beautiful face red with humiliation and anger, blonde hair tussled. Then she spun on her heel and all but ran.

 

Left alone with Loki by his side, Thor realized just how tense he was and how hard his heart was beating. He had not seen her for centuries as she was of course still not welcome at the court even if she was allowed back to Asgard. He had not anticipated this sort of reaction and he was ashamed of it, not only on his own account, but because of Loki.

 

“Thor? Are you all right?” Loki looked up at him, perplexed, and set his palm on Thor's arm, stroking and squeezing him lightly.

 

“Of course,” Thor replied automatically, his voice hitching so hard he had to stop and clear his throat. “Are you?”

 

“I am,” Loki waived his hand dismissively. “Forgive me, but you seem very unsettled.”

 

“It's nothing,” he insisted. “I was simply surprised to see someone that I grew to dislike so much. My apologies if I embarrassed you.”

 

Loki laughed then, startling Thor. “You did not embarrass me. I think it might be quite the opposite, actually. That necklace,” he pointed to the floor where the tangled heap of gold still lay, smouldering lightly, “was tacky but expensive and I ruined it.”

 

Thor had been there and the entire event had unfolded in front of him, but it felt as though only now he was beginning to understand what he had seen. The beetles had been Loki's doing; he had effectively shut the woman that had almost ruined Thor up with his magic, transforming the jewels on necklace she intended to buy into those disgusting insects.

 

“Thank you,” he said aloud and then bore Loki's searching gaze with patience and not a small amount of humility.

 

“Give me a kiss?” Loki prompted finally, standing up on his toes to get closer to Thor and Thor did, gladly, pressing their lips together tenderly.

 

Then with a deep breath, he smiled and cupped Loki's neck, stroking his cheek with his thumb. Loki's skin was warm as he nuzzled into the increasingly familiar gesture. “Now. We have a hairpin to choose, unless you wish to go elsewhere?”

 

“No,” Loki shook his head, then cocked his head at Thor. “ _As I've said_ , they have a beautiful selection. And we will be spending money here anyway, we might as well also leave with something.”

 

The shopkeeper, looking very nervous, poked his head in soon after and Thor beckoned him in.

 

“My husband will purchase a pin from you. We will also the cover the cost of _that_.” He gestured to the ruined necklace on the floor.

 

The shopkeeper nodded and scrambled about, settling back into his normal routine, and started to inquire about Loki's choice of purchase, and Thor blended into the background once more while he regained his composure completely. He was still slightly embarrassed and it left an odd taste in his mouth.

 

Embarrassment was not something he felt often anymore. When he was younger? Of course... How many times had he knelt before his father in the throne room and listened to loud scoldings about the newest reckless thing he had done? How many times had he himself looked around and realized that the situation he was in was preposterous and unwise and he had unwittingly made it worse in anger or because of his pride? And when he became king, well, he'd faced other kinds of embarrassments then. Decisions he'd made too rashly, decisions he had hesitated to make at all, looking back to his previous missteps. He thought himself a good leader, able to inspire his fellow warriors in battle, but his leadership and fighting skill had not been very helpful when it came to the first speeches he made as a king, where he had so often stumbled over his words. But this was all so long ago. He'd grown more confident since then, or he had at least learned to pretend at being confident, which often led to him truly feeling such.

 

Tearing away from the rather unpleasant train of thought, he focused on Loki and violence of his reaction to Thor being mocked by Amora. It was satisfying, and yet rather unsettling. Thor didn't have one good thought about Amora, but the maliciousness of Loki's seidr had startled him nonetheless.

 

Perhaps he was a fool for being surprised. Loki was a seidrmadr and magic was a tool with many uses. It should not be surprising that fight was one of them. Or revenge.

 

“You are yet tense,” Loki told him as they exited the shop and continued wandering through the streets.

 

“I'm sure Amora spoke to you before I joined you. Did her conduct not make you _tense_?” Thor countered hotly. Loki was prodding, and it didn't sit well.

 

“Amora...” Loki echoed with vague interest in his tone. “So that's her name?”

 

Thor pursed his lips, but said nothing.

 

When Loki seemed to catch up on the fact that Thor was not going to reply, he continued. “She had many things to say, actually – none of which were her name. It was all about you.”

 

“Amora had never any claim over me,” Thor growled. “She only imagined she did.”

 

What he didn't tell Loki was that her _imaginings_ were so powerful that, in the end, her seidr had made them true. Loki did not reply; he looked away and fell silent, and Thor suspected that that Amora had had time to tell him plenty.

 

“Why don't we finally go for that ride you promised me?” Loki suggested after a long moment of silence as they continued making their way back towards the palace.

 

Thor smiled, happy for the distraction.

 

“Soon, Loki. Your training was cut short... let's see what you remember tomorrow and then ride out towards the end of the week.”

 

“Very well,” Loki acquiesced with a jokingly exaggerated pout on his face, making Thor laugh. Then he tucked himself under Thor's arm in a manner that was by now very familiar and quite comforting, and they walked the remaining distance towards the palace arm in arm and in good humour.

* * *

 

Thor choked on mead when Gunnhild tugged one of his braids with her short little fingers, promptly stuck it into her mouth, and began chewing on it. He took it in stride, laughing along with Hildegund as she took the toddler out of his lap, but irritation that had nothing to do with spit-wet hair still grated on him. He was well-liked among Volstagg's children and he enjoyed their raucous company as well, but it was not usual for him to end up with a lapful of babbling child as soon as he sat down.

 

Hildegund's approving look when he took the toddler's attentions in good spirits was greatly annoying as he knew well what she was thinking.

 

Volstagg seemed to sense Thor's discomfort and insisted that the younger children at least, should be sent to bed. Once they were gone, he lured Thor into a conversation about hunting, peppered with a great deal of his typically exaggerated stories.

 

“... and mind you, I had only this small knife and I was a waif of a boy back then-”

 

Thor's laughter was cut short by a hard knock at the door. With a displeased grunt, Volstagg got up and went to see the visitor.

 

Thor's heart sank when he saw it was a pair of Einherjar.

 

“What is it?”

 

“Heimdall requires your presence, my liege,” one of them replied.

 

“Did he say why?” Thor asked, though he already suspected that if the Einherjar had been sent, whatever it was would not wait.

 

“No, my liege.”

 

“Very well.” He nodded and dismissed the Einherjar, bid Volstagg and Hildegund goodbye, and took a deep breath as soon as he stepped outside. The air was sweet and warm, though not overly so, the epitome of a beautiful Asgardian spring night. It reminded Thor most acutely of his youth and of the carefree days he'd lived, but now was not for him to dally over times long past. Dutifully, he took Mjolnir from his belt, began to spin it in the air until the momentum was enough to pull him into flight, and headed for the observatory.

 

Heimdall stood waiting, unmoving as always, his eyes trained on something Thor could not see.

 

“Heimdall.”

 

“My king.”

 

There was almost imperceptible hint of heaviness in the gatekeeper's voice and Thor shivered. As much as he would have liked to ascribe the involuntary motion to the much colder wind - nothing like the warmth that he marvelled at back at Volstagg's house - that whipped around him here at the edge of space, he knew that the cause was something far more gravenothing like the warmth that he marvelled at back at Volstagg's house.

 

“What has happened?”

 

“Jotunheim has become guarded from my sight.”

 

Thor wasn't sure what he was anticipating, but it certainly wasn't that, and the shock of it pushed all air from his lungs for a moment before he gathered himself.

 

“When and how,” he asked, eyes trained at Heimdall's expressionless face.

 

“Minutes ago. I sent for you the moment it happened. Power for that great a feat could only come from the Casket, but I know not who wields it.”

 

“Was it Laufey? Farbauti?” Thor insisted, ignoring Heimdall's last words, his voice rising.

 

“Their halls have been cloaked to us for centuries now. You know this.”

 

Now there was a hint of reproach in Heimdall's voice and Thor lowered his head, taking deep breaths. Directing his anger at Heimdall would not help. The gatekeeper was loyal and his service invaluable. Still, his presence was also a source of fear and animosity for some of the realms. Most of the rulers took measures to prevent the Asgard's gatekeeper's gaze from learning their secrets and vulnerable state matters. But this was a time of relative peace amongst the realms, and Thor could not understand.

 

“What could have lead to this?” he murmured, more to himself than to Heimdall.

 

“I do not know. But I believe that you must consider the option that it is an act of hostility.”

 

Indeed he must. He left Heimdall with instructions to closely watch for any changes on Jotunheim as well as for any signs of unrest in the other realms, then he flew back to the palace. It was late and he was tired, the news weighing on him heavily, but there was yet work to be done. He sat waiting in his study as Sif and Brunnhilde first, Fandral and Hogun shortly after arrived.

 

Facing his friends – though he was meeting with them now as holders of positions in the army – with this matter filled him with an unusual sense of discomfort.

 

“I've spoken to Heimdall,” he began in a clipped voice as soon as they were all gathered. “As of this evening, Jotunheim is cloaked from his sight.” He took note of their surprised faces, but didn't pause. “We do not know why or who is responsible, so we must act with caution. Sif, you will choose army officials at the right places and put them on alert. Brunnhilde, I want the palace security tightened. Fandral, I want you to find trustworthy warriors and have them scout the borders. Hogun, you will be in charge of weapons and food reserve detail.”

 

Stunned silence followed. Sif was the first to speak up.

 

“Thor... those are rather drastic measures.”

 

“They don't have to be if you do everything discreetly.”

 

A discussion erupted then and despite his fatigue, Thor was grateful for it. Even though he didn't plan on rescinding any of the orders he uttered, it soothed him to be told that he was overreacting. It meant that perhaps the situation wasn't as dire as he imagined it to be.

 

More than an hour later, matters were settled. His friends insisted on some changes in the action they would take, but the result was the same. Asgard would silently prepare for war.

 

The burden of making decisions that could affect so many lives was always the hardest part of ruling.

 

In this case, he couldn't be swayed; Asgard would not be left unprepared for possible attack, but his heart was heavy and he was certain that on personal front, he would regret it.

 

“One more thing,” Thor called out as they were leaving. “Loki hears _none_ of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :) 
> 
> There will be some further plot in this fic, as I suppose you can guess now :)


	7. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thousand thanks to [Mona](http://sexualthorientation.tumblr.com/) for beta-reading. I don't know how I ever wrote without her help.
> 
> I can't exactly pride myself on weekly updates any longer as the plot gets more complicated and I start school, but I do have the events of this fic clearly in mind and will certainly strive to bring them forward.
> 
> I am also up-rating the fic to explicit because the content of this chapter gets sexual and then... who knows? I would not qualify it as underage though, I think Loki had some things to say (and show) about that, so I hope nobody is bothered.
> 
> Also, look at this art I got commissioned of Thor and Loki from this fic :)
> 
> by [boltplumart](http://boltplumart.tumblr.com/).

His bedchamber was dark by the time Thor returned. He climbed into bed and nimble arms came to circle his shoulders the second he slipped under the covers. Long legs, warm with the heat that Loki's new skin produced under all the furs, entwined with his own. Thor thought he had been quiet enough as to not wake Loki by coming to bed this late, but he was apparently mistaken.

 

“Mm, you've been gone for a very long time,” Loki whispered. The plethora of all possible replies to that flitted through Thor's mind and he paused, thinking about which one to choose.

 

It was easy to tell his generals not to spread sensitive information. It was easy to instruct them to not let word of their quiet preparations reach his husband, a foreigner in their land. But here and now, in his bed with Loki's warm body pressed to his, it seemed he might be unable to keep the truth to himself.

 

Some of the most painful, frustrating memories of Thor's life were those of the lessons his Father had given him about ruling. As a child and a young boy, Thor was endlessly fascinated with tales of valour and bravery, cherishing the ideal of fearless warriors and veracious knights. It was a harsh clash with reality when he joined his father's side in matters of state and, less often, war. When the lesson was verbal, he often tried to challenge his father and convince him of the need for honour above all things and so Odin took a more rough approach, showing Thor everything ugly in the Nine Realms and offering solutions that asked for deceit and stealth. Thor chafed under those lessons, but he learnt them nonetheless.

 

“My visit at Volstagg's was cut short,” he explained, heart beating as though he was a young boy, fearing getting caught for stealing sweets. “A matter came up and I had to deal with it.”

 

Loki stilled next to him, but for a second only. Then he began moving again, rubbing himself against Thor lightly in smooth motions, every brush of their skin bringing Loki further into Thor's arms, the slight weight of him settling on Thor bit by bit.

 

Thor was struck by a sudden vision of a snake coiling about him and had to stomp on that thought immediately.

 

“Mm,” Loki purred against his ear. “What was the matter?”

 

“Nothing that need concern you,” Thor replied gently, praying he would not come across as condescending. He needn't have worried; Loki didn't seem very interested in his answer anyway.

 

“Well, why don't we instead deal with something that does concern me?” Loki whispered. There was a slight edge to his voice that made Thor's breath hitch.

 

He had no time to question it though, as Loki kissed him forcefully, shifting his body until he was on top of Thor. He came to the startling realization that Loki was naked, and this time he knew it had nothing to do with the heat bothering him. His mouth was open and pressed wetly to Thor's, insistent and daring, while his arms were wrapped around Thor's shoulders, attempting to cage him in.

 

Thor was only wearing a pair of short sleeping pants and there was nothing obstructing the slide of bare skin as their chests were pressed flush together. Thor's groin was covered, but the linen was thin and soft and did little to hide the heat and hardness of Loki's cock where their hips were pressed together.

 

For long seconds, he was paralysed, his mind slowly processing this sudden attack. Then he laughed at himself inwardly for calling this an _attack,_ his spirits lightening considerably.

 

His sweet, young, _eager_ husband was vastly more interested in Thor's body than he was in the ruin of his kingdom, Thor was sure of that. This thought did nothing to ease Thor's guilt about lying to him, but it did spur him into action.

 

Thor flipped them over, bracing himself in time so he would not end up on top of Loki. He pulled his hips from between his husband's spread legs and laid next to him instead. This position was less intimate, but Thor made no move to break the kiss,sliding a palm to Loki's cheek, tilting his face up and ravishing his mouth thoroughly.

 

They spent several minutes like that, with teeth nipping and tongues exploring, until Loki started making tiny sounds which grew until Thor couldn't swallow them anymore and Loki tipped to the side, his hips thrusting gently, seeking something to press against. Thor looked at him carefully – Loki was quite a sight, with glossy eyes and red cheeks, not to mention his swollen lips. He was panting and grasping at Thor with sharp fingernails and Thor allowed it, slipping one thigh between Loki's legs.

 

Loki bucked against him immediately, a loud whine escaping his throat. He was so different like this, lost to the world with his eyes closed and his body clearly ruling his actions. It was just this that prompted Thor not to put an end to this. Loki's need was clear and it was selfish, his young body dictating what he wanted. No politics. No tricks. Thor did feel a pang of desire watching his husband, quite mesmerized by their passionate kiss and by the lithe body shivering next to him, but he only needed a bit of an effort to sternly tell himself to keep away.

 

Loki rubbed himself on Thor's thigh for only a couple of minutes, his moans growing louder and movements more erratic with every second until Thor felt spurts of wet heat bleeding through his pants and onto his leg. Loki went slack then, mouth falling open and eyes remaining closed. Thor smiled fondly at the sight and gave Loki a quick peck on the cheek before rolling over to discreetly wipe the seed from his skin. Before he was done, Loki fell asleep and Thor let out a long breath, feeling something akin to relief despite the mild discomfort in his loins.

 

Pulling the covers over them both, Thor rolled to his back and stared up into the dark.

 

It would be fine. The crisis with Jotunheim would be resolved soon. He and Loki would continue to find the balance between what they wanted and what was expected of them.

 

It would be fine.

 

It had to be.

 

* * *

 

In the next days he sometimes recalled that moment of wishful thinking and the sinking feeling that accompanied it as though it was prophetic.

 

_Nothing_ was fine.

 

First, there were a couple of tense days of silence. Heimdall had no news; Jotunheim remained perfectly impenetrable to his gaze. The times that Thor went to see the gatekeeper himself rather than relying on messengers, he had a curious feeling that Heimdall was holding something back and demanded that he be told.

 

“It is not to do with Jotunheim,” was the stoic man's reply and Thor clenched his fists, nerves frayed.

 

“Just tell me.”

 

“Amora. Her habits are... unusual.”

 

Thor almost wished he hadn't pressed. Heimdall apparently believed Thor didn't need reminding of this person and he was right. The prickle of anger on top of the stress and frustration of the past days was almost too much.

 

“If she does something dangerous, send a whole cursed legion of Einherjar after her,” Thor growled through his teeth, head throbbing with a sudden but persistent headache.

 

Up until that point, Heimdall stood at his usual post, hands resting on his sword, but at Thor's latest proclamation, he stepped down to join Thor.

 

“This is a situation that requires a careful reaction. I myself am quite unsettled by seeing only a black hole where an entire realm should be,” Heimdall spoke as Thor bore his gaze to the space, listening carefully. Heimdall did not always offer his insight and Thor valued it when he did. “But you are more shaken than is necessary. Is this because of Loki?”

 

The bluntness of the question startled Thor and his first instinct was to deny it. Instead, he took time to settle his thoughts and truly face this question, for his own sake rather than Hemidall's, which he suspected was the point of him asking in the first place.

 

“From the day we met... no, from the day we were promised, I hoped to make him happy. And I have already failed to do so, so many times. There are still matters between us that I don't know how to resolve.” He thought to the night where he allowed Loki to slip into his embrace and seek completion. “And the idea that... that there might be war with his homeland. I do not see how we could reconcile that.”

 

“You also worry that if Laufey planned betrayal from the start, Loki might be a part of it. Know of it.”

 

“I wondered. At the start... he was so eager, perhaps too eager for someone so young, being married to... me.”

 

Casting a sideways glance at Heimdall, Thor steeled himself for the uncomfortable question he was about to ask.

 

“You have not seen something that would shed light on his motives?”

 

“As far as I can tell, his motives are his own. He does not appear to be a part of any plot.”

 

There was some comfort to be found in the gatekeeper's words. Thor clasped him on the shoulder in wordless thanks before taking his leave.

 

But still the unsettling sense of impending doom remained.

 

* * *

 

For his initial complaints about being sent off to school like a child instead of being at Thor's side and taking up duties as royal consort, Loki was thoroughly enjoying his lessons. Some of his tutors seemed ridiculous to him, yes, old stuffy men in long robes, droning on in boring voices, but even those were wells of knowledge that Loki could not access before. And then there were those who intrigued him endlessly, especially his seidr teachers. While his history, diplomacy and geography lessons were scheduled regularly, due to all the scholars being granted offices and laboratories inside the palace and working there on most days, his seidr tutors were for the most part more elusive people, sometimes travelling for their meeting from far reaches of Asgard.

 

He had learned this one day, waiting for a lesson in a room high up in one of the many palace towers, bored and slightly annoyed with the delay of whomever was sent to teach him that day. He even started to doubt if he was in the right place – it was remote and empty.

 

Then a falcon landed on the windowsill and Loki startled, unaccustomed to the sight of such animal. For a few seconds, the falcon merely watched him with curious eyes, cocking his head, and then a shadow appeared and grew, until the sleek feathers of the animal began to wither and transform, and then a woman stood before him. She appeared to be fairly aged, perhaps slightly younger than Queen Frigga, dressed in simple brown and leather garb.

 

Her transformation impressed him thoroughly and so Helgunnr became one of his favourite teachers, even if he only met her twice so far.

 

And there were others, among them the queen herself who helped him transform his skin into one that wouldn't burn under the unforgiving Asgardian sun.

 

Besides, the highs and lows of his tutors aside, there was the knowledge itself. Loki did love to learn and even more so, he loved _knowing_ things. As a child he was never able to stop himself from spying and listening in to what was going on behind closed doors, even if he did not understand what it all _meant_. And now, with unimaginable wealth of information at his fingertips, he could hardly resist.

 

That's why he did not mind spending this particular afternoon in the library. Thor was busy anyway; these past days he was always busy, and Loki was growing quite annoyed. In some ways, Thor was more open and welcoming to him than he had been before, but there was also something odd about him, a certain aura of sadness that wasn't like him at all. Sometimes, he seemed almost worried, or even nervous.

 

Shrugging off the thought, Loki went back to his text, which described the creation of the world tree, Yggdrasil, and how all of the realms fit around it. It was fascinating, and the tome itself was very old and huge, as were many of the books in the library. The whole room was breathtaking, illuminated by tall stained glass widows with bookcases that nearly reached the ceiling. There were several sets of tables and chairs for the readers' convenience and Loki was seated at one such place, poring over his homework with eagerness almost. He preferred to stay in the library while working, rather than taking the books to his private rooms, because it was truly an extraordinary place that filled him with silent awe. Besides, the chairs were comfortable and the tables spacious, so he told himself it was practical as well.

 

A group of librarians shuffled past him. They were an odd assortment of people – men and women who looked like they might have been as old as some of the books they cared for, but following them was half a dozen of energetic girls who skipped around in the same long grey robes that the elder librarians wore and possessed the same love of books.

 

An older man in a grey robe approached him now. Loki didn't think he'd met this librarian before, but most old Aesir men looked the same to him, so he simply nodded his thanks as the man placed a book before him.

 

“This might suit your interests, my lord,” the man rasped and turned to walk away without explanation. Loki found the gesture a little odd, but he shrugged and reached for the tome. It was not that unusual, he supposed... He was in the library quite often and the caretakers seemed to be impressed with his knowledge and eagerness to learn. Perhaps the old man just wanted to encourage that eagerness.

 

Or so he thought until he saw the book's title and description. It was a recounting of the great war between Asgard and Jotunheim. He froze, cheeks burning. What was this? Was that meant to insult him? He was only an infant when the war ended and his father was the one who made peace after the old king, the real aggressor had fallen. Or was this meant to say that Asgard and Jotunheim could never be at peace?

 

Angrily, he tore the book open, not even knowing why; he had no particular interest in reading it. Part of him perhaps hoped it would be one of those books that took a dark part of history and tried to reconcile it somehow, offer solutions and absolutions, so that he might believe the old man's intent was anything other but to insult him and scorn him.

 

A couple of pages in, he stopped. A folded piece of parchment was placed there and he reached for it hesitantly. Notes from a previous reader? He already knew it would not be.

 

_King Thor prepares for war with your homeland. His generals are silently rousing the army and gathering strength of weapons. Groups of warriors have already left for the borders so they might slip to Jotunheim unseen through the paths between worlds. You will be held hostage and used to negotiate total surrender of your home. I am a friend and wish to help you. Meet me at sundown in the gardens by the southern tower._

 

* * *

For as long as Thor could remember, he was trained to react. On a battlefield, this came to him naturally. He could predict the changes in his opponents' tactics and even when they caught him off guard, there was knowledge drilled into him that allowed him to salvage the situation, to change his approach and to save the moment. It was harder with politics; especially when sometimes he was required to do nothing at all when a certain threat arose, but in time, he learned that the lack of action did not mean he was not doing anything. Quite the contrary – the silence and withdrawal could do wonders.

 

Those lessons mattered little when a page, a sweaty young boy with eyes as round as saucers, came running to him and began a breathless account. He reported that a party of Frost Giants had attacked a patrol at one of Asgard's boarders. Heimdall burdened the messenger with an unusual amount of detail about the skirmish, Thor noted. The gatekeeper was aware of the delicacy of the situation and of Thor's unsteady state of mind, and most likely wanted to give him as much information as the boy could hold.

 

The facts were these:

 

There was a total of twelve patrol groups guarding the borders of Asgard. While of course nothing but empty space appeared at the other side of the land they were watching, those places were still vulnerable as many weak spots were to be found there; spots that were blurred (or worse) to Heimdall's gaze and that were accessible to skilled magic users who could travel to these parts from other realms without the use of the Bifrost. None of this was news; it was at it has always been, except that in times of peace, Asgard, with all its strength and influence on the other realms had no reasons to worry.

 

Under normal circumstances, there would be but one patrol, slowly circling watch for the entire length of Asgard's border. But because of Heimdall's warning and Thor's specific orders, their defences were strengthened, and so when the group of five frost giants appeared, they only went unchecked for several miles before they were intercepted by an Aesir watch. The fight that followed did not favour the Asgardians, but they were skilled and resourceful enough to send a call for help... even though they ultimately paid with their lives. The reinforcements that arrived fared far better, having full knowledge of the situation at hand, they came prepared for the battle and were able to overcome the Jotuns, slaying all but two.

 

This was the last piece of information the page had for Thor; the two remaining frost giants had been taken prisoner and were being brought to the capital for questioning.

 

“And, lord Heimdall says that...” The boy seemed to be very relieved that he neared the end of his message, but still appeared nervous about what he had left to say. “That the Giants may not be able to speak at all. That your majesty should not expect to gain much knowledge from them.”

 

Thor was seated at throne and the boy was standing before him, looking very small. He was doing his best to appear calm, but Thor could clearly see that the boy was trembling. It was understandable – he had been charged with relaying some most unsettling news to his king, and Thor felt a pang of sympathy for the youth. He dismissed the boy with a tense word of thanks, and suppressed his rising need to ask questions and demand answers.

 

The page only knew what Heimdall had told him, and Heimdall only knew what he had seen. This, he already gave to Thor. Thor could easily go and ask questions of the gatekeeper, to gain his opinion and his closer approach, but he knew he had already done far too much of that.

 

He needed to face the facts.

 

With a wave of his hand, Thor also dismissed the guards from the throne room, remaining alone in peace and quiet. Jotunheim had gone to great lengths to guard itself from Asgard's sight. Soon after, its warriors had penetrated Asgard.

 

And before any of this happened, Jotunheim had given its child to Thor. A youth who had done nothing but try to win Thor's attention and his affection, and in the process, slotting himself into the perfect position to strike.

 

But in the end, it did not matter what Thor thought about Loki or how he felt about his spouse. Straightening up, Thor seated himself more steadily on the Hlidskjalf and let his gaze fall open to the realms.

 

Loki was not hard to find and that brought Thor a modicum of relief, at least until he focused his vision on him properly and saw what Loki was doing. He was pacing in his own private library in their shared chambers, his face bearing clear signs of distress. He was scowling and biting his lips in turn and as Thor watched, the old familiar feeling of dread in anticipation of the worst filling his chest, Loki's mood slowly stabilized into one of coolness. He stopped his pacing, unclenching his fists and smoothing his expression into nothing.

 

Something even more peculiar happened then; Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, unfolding it with slightly trembling hands. With effort, Thor strained his mind's eye on the writing. Heimdall would have been able to see it clearly, but Hlidskjalf's power only allowed Thor to focus so far.

 

The sheet was empty. No – it simply... wasn't there. Thor saw Loki holding a piece of folded paper, but once it was opened, only nothingness swam between Loki's fingertips.

 

The message was cloaked just as Jotunheim was.

 

Breath escaped Thor in a rush and a pang of pain ran through him. Confused at first, he realized with an odd sort of detachment that it was a betrayal. _Heartbreak._

 

No, not that. It could not be, but he didn't know what else to believe. Thor felt the bitter sting of betrayal and, at the same time, of deep regret. Could he have expected any better? Meddling in affairs that weren't his own, drawing a young boy away from his home just to sate his need for rightness and justice... but who was he to say what Jotunheim needed? He had fashioned himself a dream of a healthy, flourishing Yggdrasil and now the Norns were laughing at him. He had done nothing but court war.

 

Thor was nearly overwhelmed by what appeared to be evidence of Loki's involvement, and things only got worse as he watched Loki slip away from their chambers and navigate his way through the palace, apparently with a clear destination in mind. Thor's stomach jumped as Loki got closer to the throne room – perhaps there was hope yet. Perhaps Loki was coming to see him and meant to show Thor the message of his own volition.

 

_And betray his own family?_

 

Loki passed through the corridor that led to the to the gates of the throne room and it was surreal, watching him with his mind's eye when he was so close, but Loki did not stop there. Instead he went further, the speed of his steps changing. He slunk towards the walls, walking in the shadows that the torches and fires cast there, stepping lightly and making almost no sound at all.

 

Thor could not bear one more second of it. The moment Loki raised his hand, green glow swirling about his fingers, to the doors of Thor's private study and began unravelling the wards closing it, Thor got up.

 

* * *

 

Loki's heart was pounding in his chest when the wards finally gave in and he pressed the door handle as gently as he could, pushing at the massive doors until he could slip inside. This was Thor's study. Loki was not sure what he might be finding there, but he could not think of better place to go. It was a beautiful room, grand while still having a sense of comfort to it, but the surroundings were the last thing on Loki's mind.

 

He had to know if that message had any truth to it.

 

Papers were strewn over Thor's desk and Loki started there, rummaging through them quickly, finding nothing of interest. Drawers were next – the first one did contain some documents, but none of them gave an indication of Jotunheim or war. Still, trepidation seized Loki and he cursed at his own trembling hands.

 

Second drawer. He pulled out a packet of papers, the sheets almost slipping from his grasp as he placed them on top of the desk to see them more clearly.

 

There were numbers written in a clipped, small handwriting. Numbers and items – it was a list of sorts.

 

Swords, shields, helmets, sets of armour, horses, boats, grain... Loki swallowed. _Oh no_.

 

Another paper, different handwriting. Loki read hastily, his mind tripping over the words as his heart sped up. Something about warriors being dispatched... heading for the borders and -

 

The door slammed open and Loki jumped back so hard his back collided with one of the bookcases that lined the walls. Various excuses flitted to his mind even as he felt his heart might explode, beating as hard as it was – he could say that Thor sent him to fetch something, that he was there to surprise his husband, anything really, but...

 

It was Thor standing in the doorway, blue eyes blazing with fury. Loki had admired Thor's size before, but now he seemed giant – somewhere at the back of his mind Loki knew there was irony there – stalking towards Loki and towering over him. The scent of ozone filled the air and Loki realized in an oddly detached sort of way , that it was coming from Thor. That he was so angry he was literally crackling with energy, a Thunder God in all his might. All of that power and fury was focused at Loki, and he thought at that moment, it was the end of him.

 

Thor approached, but stopped beside the desk, cornering Loki and glancing at the papers that Loki had pulled out. He did not seem surprised by what he saw and Loki couldn't help but feel that it boded very, very badly for him.

 

Though he was still paralysed by Thor's imposing presence as well as his rage, a trickle of anger all his own made itself known in his pulse as well. He remembered what the note had told him – he was merely a pampered hostage in Asgard and Thor was nothing but a jailer determined to destroy his homeland.

 

They stared at each other for a long moment, Loki was internally screaming at himself to pull his act together. Yes, he was startled out of his skin, but he needed to focus if he was leave this room alive.

 

“Well?” Loki prompted finally when Thor remained silent. He spoke quietly, but forced a sneer onto his face. “Have you not something to tell me? Or better yet, a _war_ to prepare for?”

 

Thor squeezed his eyes shut for a second and Loki was horrified at the clear flash of regret that appeared on his husband's features. So, he really was to die then -

 

“Come with me, Loki,” Thor said instead, his voice deceptively soft. After a beat, Loki pushed himself away from the bookcase, smoothing his clothing and swallowing down a wave of nausea.

 

“Lead the way,” he told Thor nastily and followed when Thor turned and strode from the room. Their journey through the palace was lengthy and the stretch of time it took to reach their destination was possibly one of the worst moments in Loki's life. During the walk, he remembered that it would make no sense for Thor to kill him. Just as the note said, he was a hostage now.

 

So where was he being led? The prisons? No...they were ascending, entering a part of the palace that Loki didn't know, rather than going below to the dungeons.

 

He thought of the note hidden in his pocket and wished he had thought to destroy it. If the person who had sent it truly was an ally and they were waiting for Loki at the spot named in the letter, they would be in danger.

 

Finally they stopped in front of a set of nondescript doors on a long corridor at a higher floor of the palace. On Loki's right, there were open windows and the view could be considering mesmerising – or at least it would be at any other moment, he thought bitterly.

 

Thor pressed an open palm to the doors and the wood rippled and disappeared.

 

So a prison indeed, Loki thought with a pang of fear. Simply not in the dungeons.

 

He entered willingly, having no desire to be manhandled by Thor. He knew how to pick his battles. A rounded staircase was behind and he climbed it for uncomfortably long amount of time until finally a room came to view, round and furnished sparsely, but adequately. One single, small window revealed they were truly very high. This was a tower.

 

“The note, Loki. I would have it.”

 

Thor did not wait for Loki to examine his _cell_ before posing this request and Loki whirled around.

 

“Have you been spying on me?”

 

“With good reason, it seems. The note. Now.”

 

Thor kept a levelled tone of voice, almost monotone and Loki shivered as he witnessed the steely control Thor possessed over his fury. And still, he was unwilling to comply.

 

“I will not give it to you.”

 

“You have it in your pocket. Just hand it to me and we will be done.”

 

It was nauseating to hear Thor say that. Loki stared at the man before him, a man he had grown to desire and admire so much. How silly he had been. Crawling into Thor's lap, naked, writhing with need... and that was only a couple of days ago, when Thor was already advancing on Jotunheim. Loki was disgusted with himself and it drove him to recklessness.

 

“Why don't you come and get it yourself, then,” he spat. “You have no issues taking things that don't belong to you. Don't start pretending now.”

 

He regretted the outburst slightly when Thor did indeed approach him, but he stood his ground, glaring his displeasure at Thor, who merely grasped Loki's shoulder lightly to stop him from moving away and slid fingers of his other hands to Loki's left pocket, pulling the paper out.

 

Knowing he was defeated, Loki huffed and slapped Thor's hand away. Thor simply turned away and Loki heard the paper rustling, followed by a small sigh coming from Thor.

 

Loki looked outside nervously. Sundown was now, which meant his _friend_ was in danger. Originally when Loki had read the note, he knew he would not go there, no matter what he learned, it was far too dangerous and quite suspicious, but now, detained as he was, finally learning about Asgard's betrayal... he had no wish for this person to come to harm.

 

“What did the note say, Loki?” Thor sighed, sounding very tired.

 

“What – can't you read?”

 

Thor faced him once again and held out the note so Loki could see.

 

“You see the words writ upon this?”

 

“Of course I do.” _Oh._ “But you don't.”

 

The idea filled him with smug pleasure. “Well, I guess that you will never know what it says. Such a shame.”

 

Thor looked at him long and hard and Loki pressed his lips together, wary of the scrutiny. Then Thor's gaze slid from Loki and to their surroundings instead, the simple, bare room.

 

“Yes. A shame indeed.”

 

The heaviness of those words hung in the air long after Thor left.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I'd be thrilled to read your thoughts! Be kind to Thor though and try to see things from his perspective ;)


	8. Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Mona for beta-reading.

The hours ticked by slowly as the sun set fully and night settled over the realm. For lack of anything else to do, Loki thoroughly investigated his prison. There was a single cot bed with clean linens and soft mattress, screen for privacy and behind it a sink, one desk and a chair, both empty of any reading or writing tools and one small bench underneath the window with two pillows decorating it.

 

There was no hearth, and the one open window present was devoid of any shutters or drapes. He wondered what this place was like in winter for an Aesir... was the point of the cell to torture its inhabitant with cold? No, that would be nonsense. He approached the window and had to stand on his toes to be able to look down. The height was almost dizzying. Underneath him was the stunning view at Asgard at night, illuminated with many torches and home fires.

 

Something was off, though. Carefully he reached out and almost immediately his fingers collided with hard, smooth barrier. Of course. He heard not a sound coming from the outside world, nor could even breeze penetrate it, that was the strange feeling he noticed. The quiet. The stillness.

 

Even if he could transform himself into a bird (which he could not, no matter how hard he practised what Helgunnr had taught him), he would not be able to leave.

 

Everything that has happened to him since he read that damnable note was nothing short of a nightmare. Seeing the accusation, written in an unknown handwriting, was like a punch to the stomach. Then began a battle he has lost, of course – a battle to convince himself that it could not be possibly true. But the doubt had eaten away at him, whispering memories of the long forgotten insults that were always present back home. Aesir – selfish, arrogant, violent. Invading lands and spreading what they called 'rules.' And he had come here willingly, to aid his parents and with some indescribable need for _more_. How foolish he had been.

 

Of course it was too good to be true, just like his mother had feared. He thought about her now, when the events of the day caught up with him and he sat down heavily on the cot. If he could at least warn them. Was it too late? Was that where Thor had gone, to lead the attack?

 

And Thor. Loki didn't think he could (or should) ever forget the fear that filled him at the sight of his husband's barely contained fury. The coldness he had shown Loki afterwards, discarding him and locking him away, was almost as bad.

 

Loki wished Hel would take Thor.

 

That was his last thought before exhaustion caught up to him.

 

* * *

 

The sound of a far-off door slamming, followed by the approach of heavy footsteps woke him abruptly and Loki sprang up with a gasp, wincing when his neck protested at the sudden motion; he had fallen asleep propped up against the wall, and his body was aching from the uncomfortable position.

 

He strained to see who was coming, but could make nothing out in the dimness the room.

 

“My lord.” Despite the honorific title, the greeting was curt, and Loki was rather surprised to hear it coming from a woman's voice. Ah. He recognized the tall, proud-looking figure approaching – dressed in full armour, a long, blonde braid over her shoulder, Loki remembered. It was Brunnhilde, captain of the palace guard. He stayed silent and watched her set several items onto the desk: a full plate of food and a large pitcher and then placed folded garments that hung from her forearm over the chair's back.

 

“Your breakfast and a change of clothes,” she described needlessly, turning to face him.

 

“How generous of you,” he intoned coolly, challenging her stern gaze with his own.

 

“I thought so too. I am not accustomed to treating rats with kindness.”

 

 _Aesir_. Cursed Aesir. Self-righteous to the absurd.

 

He had no reply for her other than a hateful glare and so he was surprised when she didn't leave, sighing instead and tossing her braid off of her shoulder. Her entire posture seemed to deflate with the motion and an apologetic expression appeared on her face.

 

“Loki, I... I understand. We all have our loyalties. But Thor is my friend and I am sworn to protect him and Asgard.”

 

“And you'd expect me to side with you?” Loki spluttered, thrown by her mention of loyalty. “Am I supposed to cast aside the realm that bore me, my own parents, simply because my new husband decided to attack it? Holding me hostage at that?”

 

Her lips parted for a second and she simply stared at him.

 

“What?” he growled, uncomfortable under her scrutiny.

 

“Hostage? What makes you believe that?”

 

A fresh wave of fury came over him and he jumped up, fists clenched.

 

“Oh, have you a more _noble_ word for it?”

 

“We do not hold you hostage, Loki. You are here to ensure you do not pass on the information you stole to your father or whomever is leading Jotunheim's attack.”

 

He scoffed at that, convinced by now that she was simply lying.

 

“Tell me, though,” she hummed thoughtfully, crossing her arms across her chest and leaning against the desk. “You are quick to believe the worst of us. What measures did Laufey take to ensure your safety in our hands when you were planning this?”

 

From what he knew of Brunnhilde, she didn't strike him as some master interrogator, but he felt that since he understood nothing about this conversation, it was possible he was being manipulated into giving something away. He should keep quiet, but his anger got the better of him.

 

“Has this entire realm gone mad?” he hissed. “We didn't plan anything! You are the ones attacking! Where is Thor? Why hasn't he come himself? It's because he is long gone, isn't it? He's already marching on Jotunheim!”

 

“I cannot tell you anything until we know for sure you do not have means to communicate with your father,” she replied and slowly turned to leave, giving him one last searching look.

 

Then he was alone again.

 

* * *

 

“Thor, I would have words with you.”

 

Brunnhilde had found him at the underground dungeons, in a moment of silent contemplation, as he made his plans for speaking with the prisoners. Her sharp tone demanded an answer, but Thor lingered, staring at the large, heavy gate that guarded the entryway to the dungeons, before he turned to her.

 

“How is he?”

 

His decision weighed heavily on him, and he made no attempt to hide it from his voice.

 

“Angry,” was her reply, after a hesitation.

 

 _Angry_. That was good. He was relieved to hear it.

 

“But also quite confused. The things he says, Thor – he is convinced that we are the aggressor here.”

 

“Why? Because it was I who reached out to Jotunheim and offered marriage?”

 

“No! Not that, I mean right now. He thinks you are off-realm, attacking Jotunheim and holding him hostage.”

 

“It matters not – not now. He has been here for months, my friend.” It pained Thor to even think such things, but he spoke of them nonetheless. “If he has been pretending the whole time, surely it is no strain for him to pretend now.”

 

Thor looked away from Brunnhilde and turned back to the task at hand.

 

“I understand,” she nodded after a pause, standing with him at the gate. “But still. I urge you to keep an open mind. Something is not right.”

 

Brunnhilde could did not hope to know how much her words meant to him. In the past day, Thor had wished for nothing as much as being wrong about his husband. He wanted to be proven the fool. He wanted to rush to Loki, free him of his imprisonment and beg forgiveness until the end of their days.

 

Looking back on it all, the whole business seemed surreal – as if leading Loki to the cell in the tower and locking him in had been a strange, unpleasant dream. Still, it had to be done. For now, Loki needed to be kept restrained after he'd been caught reading the documents about Asgard's army and its defences. Thor couldn't afford to take a risk with the realm's safety.

 

The tower cell was better than here, though, Thor believed. The dungeons' cells held true criminals and beasts who would never be allowed to return to society. He could not bring Loki here. No, the tower was safe and reasonably comfortable, reinforced with old seidr. But if Thor were being completely honest with himself, he knew that a prison was a prison, no matter the surroundings. Even if he had done as little as telling Loki to stay in their chambers and putting a pair of guards at their doors, the transgression would be equally as bad in his mind.

 

Suddenly impatient to get some answers and perhaps find a way to resolve what was happening, Thor pushed the gate and it gave way with a loud creak, the heavy wood scraping against the stone floor.

 

“Please send for Sif. I may have need of her,” he told Brunnhilde softly. From the corner of his eyes, he saw her give a quick nod before she turned and left. Then he focused his full attention on the task in front of him.

 

The cells were mostly empty, but the few prisoners that were held there watched him with interest, though they remained quiet. He was not surprised that they would be alert; after all, a very intriguing new company had been brought to them.

 

The two Jotnar prisoners were in separate cells on far sides of the long hall so that they might not conspire with each other. Thor reached the first one and stopped in front of the cell. It was pure white, unlike the dark, stone-built corridor that led through the middle of the dungeon. The barrier of seidr hummed almost imperceptibly and cast a light golden glow. The giant in the cell was too tall to stand straight but he paced back and forth, hunched down to avoid the ceiling. As Thor approached, the giant snarled and punched uselessly at the barrier separating them.

 

This Jotun was vastly different from the royal family of Jotunheim and the party members they had brought for the wedding. The giant's features were wild and askew, his teeth crooked and filed to points – which he demonstrated well to Thor as he bared them and growled. His skin was a lighter blue than Thor had seen during his previous dealings with the giants; it was almost grey and had a rough look to it - more a hide of an animal than skin. Dressed in rags only that barely covered his loins, Thor could see that the giant was heavily scarred. Some of the scars reminded him of battle wounds.

 

Thor stood, impassively waiting for the giant to quiet at least a little.

 

“You attacked my land without provocation,” Thor stated after a while. “I want to know why, and on whose orders. Speak, Jotun.”

 

Unsurprisingly, he received no reply. The Jotun seemed uncaring of the sizzling, burning wounds he was causing himself by pounding his fists on the energy barrier. Thor watched him, his interest turning once again to the look of the creature. He did not look like a soldier, at least not anymore, and he certainly did not look like a warrior employed by a king. Jotunheim may have been cloaked to Thor and Heimdall for several days now, but it was visible for centuries prior, and Thor had spent fair share of time watching it. It seemed unlikely that, if Laufey was indeed planning a sneak attack on Asgard, he would trust the operation to a wild thing such as this.

 

“Speak,” Thor ordered again. Fury seemed to seize the Jotun and he thrashed his limbs, beating against the walls and the barrier. It was obvious to Thor that there would be no communicating. He nodded to himself and turned on his heel, continuing deeper into the prison, the growls of the giant echoing behind him.

 

He was surprised to be met with a very different sight when he reached the cell where the other Jotun was being held.

 

This Jotun appeared to be very old: bone-thin with his skin stretched over limbs and his cheeks so sunken it lent him an appearance of a draugr. He sat cross-legged in the middle of the stark white cell, hands resting palms up on his knees as he watched Thor with clear, curious gaze.

 

Thor took his time looking him over, just as he had done before, but the giant didn't move under the scrutiny. This one was neither scarred nor wild, wearing a loin-cloth from the same soft leather that Loki used to wear.

 

_Loki. Loki who now wore pale skin and Aesir clothing, who loved shopping for gifts and eating all chocolate in sight._

 

Thor banished the sentimental thought; there was no time for it. He refocused on the task at hand.

 

“You were part of a group that attacked my land.”

 

The giant nodded solemnly and briefly raised one hand, touching his breast.

 

“I want to know who sent you, and why.”

 

The giant did not break eye contact with Thor, but cocked his head and then waited.

 

“If you tell me, you will be spared.”

 

Nothing. The giant straightened up, but remained silent.

 

Thor swallowed, growing impatient. “Why do you not speak?” he demanded, unable to keep anger from his tone.

 

A pleased expression bloomed on the giant's face, skin pulling even tighter over his cheekbones as he smiled. Then, surprisingly nimble for someone who appeared so fragile, he tucked his bony legs underneath him and began to crawl. He approached the barrier, stopping mere hair away from it – Thor wondered if the Jotun understood the consequences of touching it – and beckoned Thor with a finger to come closer.

 

For a brief moment, Thor considered the possibility of the Jotun luring him into a trap, but he discarded the idea – the magic of those guarded cells had held up against much stronger occupants. He stepped closer and waited.

 

With a finger pointed at his own jaw, the Jotun slowly opened his mouth and tilted his head back.

 

Thor managed to suppressa shudder, but could not hold back the gasp at what he was being shown: the giant's mouth was badly mangled and ugly – his tongue had been cut out.

 

“And your companion met the same fate?” Thor murmured.

 

Sitting back on his haunches, the giant seemed almost smug and Thor knew he hadn't kept his shock from his face sufficiently.

 

The Jotun closed his mouth, nodded, and then trained his gaze at Thor, unblinking.

 

“You are a smart man,” Thor said slowly. “You know I can offer you assurances. And I'm sure you don't need your tongue to tell me what truly happened...”

 

It was a calculated risk. Thor believed in the impressions he was getting from the prisoner and he was more than ready to learn the truth behind the Jotnar's attack, as he began to suspect that King Laufey had nothing to do with it.

 

Thor knew that, unlike his companion, he could negotiate with this giant. He only needed to offer whatever it was he wished the most, and he would have his answer. He could only hope that it would be the answer that would allow him to set Loki free.

 

“Tell me what you want.”

 

The giant pointed at himself.

 

“Your life, your safety,” Thor guessed.

 

The Jotun tilted his head in a slight nod, but before Thor could say more, he pointed somewhere over Thor's shoulder, frowning, stabbing the air insistently with a bony finger.

 

“The same for your companion?” Thor tried and was met with another, more emphatic nod.

 

Thor was willing to spare their lives, and he was admittedly struck by the Jotun's acute concern for the other's safety, seemingly more so than for his own Thor supposed he could understand it; if they both were warriors who faced battle together, it would make sense they would feel keen loyalty and protectiveness for each other.

 

“You have my word. No harm will come to either of you.”

 

The giant's silent gaze seemed to bore into Thor as he waited for his response, as though he hoped to see through him and read all his thoughts. Apparently, what he saw was sufficient.

 

Finally breaking eye contact with Thor, the Jotun lifted his hand, palm up, and rubbed his thumb over his fore and middle fingers in slow, tiny circles. For a split second, Thor thought he might be asking for money, until the cell barrier hummed its displeasure and Thor understood that he was calling upon seidr.

 

Slowly, a blurred image appeared above the giant's raised fingers and it grew, wavering and untouchable. Thor's stomach clenched in sick recognition as he watched the phantom sprout and take shape. A slim waist caught in a corset of velvet green, cleavage accented by shaped leather top and a lovely, but sneering face framed by voluminous blonde hair.

 

 _Amora._ Coldness spread through Thor and rendered him paralysed for a moment before he could push back the horror he felt to the back of his mind.

 

“This woman was involved in the attack on Asgard?” he prompted. The giant nodded once.

 

“She hired you?”

 

At this, the giant shook his head. The vision he was conjuring began to shimmer until green light surrounded Amora, her eyes glowing with it. Thor frowned and squinted at the image to make sense of what he was seeing. In the end, it was the Jotun's expression – the dark and hateful scowl on his weathered face as he concentrated on bringing this image forth for Thor.

 

_Ah._

 

“She enchanted you – cast a spell on you and commanded you to attack .” A nod. “And your tongues?”

 

The giant simply gestured to the image he was still holding up with his free hand.

 

“To make sure you could not reveal her. Except she did not realize what powers you possessed.” The Jotun grinned, looking mildly pleased with himself.

 

Thor turned from the cell and tried to process what he had just learned. His vision swam as the events of the past days rapidly ran through his mind. He was beginning to see things in a different light.

 

So blind. Surely he should have realized -

 

“Thor!” Sif's sharp voice saved him from delving deeper into the growing desperation he was beginning to feel. She was striding towards him quickly, looking harried.

 

“You must come at once,” she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

 

Thor gave the giant one last glance – he was watching him now, looking almost amused at the proceedings – then joined Sif and they walked briskly back down the corridor.

 

Once they passed the dungeons' gate and the guards moved to close it behind them, Sif took a breath.

 

“Loki is gone.”

 

The information hit him like a punch to the gut, the kind that comes so hard and so swiftly that the body doesn't recognize what's happened until it starts to double over in pain. Thor looked up and out at nothing, and saw a flash of gold on the stairs. It was his mother - a light, dazzling figure that didn't seem to belong among the darkness of the dungeons. But before she had been a queen and a mother, she was a shieldmaiden, and now she was coming to her king's aid.

 

Frigga paused once she'd reached them, looking at Sif with worry in her features. Thor guessed that she was as surprised and horrified by the news as he was but, as she was wont to do, she put a calm, steadying hand on her son's arm and spoke quickly, her voice like steel.

 

“It is not Jotunheim we must rally against. The cloaking spell does not come from the Casket of Ancient Winters, but from something even stranger.”

 

“Amora,” Thor cut in, the painful understanding growing. “She staged everything; she must have found some source of power, as you say. This is all her doing.”

 

“Is this what the Jotun told you?” Sif asked, jerking her head towards the dungeons.

 

“Yes, and I believe him,” Thor growled. Then, in a softer voice, he added, “It all makes sense now.”

 

Frigga sighed almost imperceptibly. “I agree. I examined the note you have taken from Loki and the spell hiding it is truly not of Jotunheim.”

 

 _Loki._ He had to face what Sif had come to tell him.

 

“Loki... gone? Did he ran or was he taken?”

 

“I do not know,” Sif answered. “But the seidr on those cells – I don't believe he could have gotten out alone.”

 

“A power that hides entire realms without revealing its source could easily be used to trespass into the room,” Frigga added.

 

“You think Amora has done something with him,” Thor said. “Where is she? What does she want with him?”

 

“Let us go see Heimdall,” Sif suggested. “Now that we know what to look for...”

 

More questions, more fruitless searching, that's what Thor was afraid of. His skin was itching with impatience and rage and he yearned to go, _to fly._ Find his foes and spill their blood. It was an impulse that felt even older than he was, but with practised restraint, he stomped on it and joined Sif and his mother as they hurried to consult the guardian.

 

* * *

 

Loki did not trust Amora. And why would he? He could not trust anyone, that much was clear.

 

He went with her because she had offered freedom, a very rare currency in his life, as he had been forced to acknowledge: locked in a palace all his life underneath the claim for safety, locked in a cell in Asgard after his husband's betrayal.

 

He saw Amora clearly. She, too, would betray him, would use him as a means for her own ends. And Loki would be ready for when she did; two could play that game.

 

“Thor is no better a king than his father had been,” Amora was saying in a silky voice as Loki watched the miles and miles of woods slip away down beneath the boat they were flying on. She had been talking a lot ever since she slipped into his cell, her words beautiful and poisonous. “Greed and wrath underneath the thin guise of honour.”

 

Loki did not care, but perhaps he should have because Amora, who had apparently noticed his silence, approached him and sat on the bench beside him, uncomfortably close. He fought against the impulse to shift away.

 

“You must forgive me for my treatment of you the first time we met,” she said with urgent honesty that rang perfectly false to Loki's ear. “I had no idea that you were...well. That you had little choice but to submit to Thor's whims.”

 

He barely stifled a snort. _Submitting to Thor's whims_. The irony. Thor did not care about him, not in any way. Loki was an empty figure to him, a pawn that held no interest. Hate, love, lust... Thor felt none of those towards Loki. There was nothing but cold calculation and courtesy that was probably so deeply ingrained in the upbringing of a royal prince that it barely fazed Thor to extended it even to Loki.

 

“I understand,” he bowed his head. “I had to pretend so much... but still. I believed that what I was doing was for the good of my home. I thought the sacrifice was worth it.”

 

If she wished to believe he had been terribly mistreated, he would not stop her. Looking meek – broken even – for the time being would suit him well.

 

“It's not over, Loki, do not despair. I can help you.”

 

Hesitating for a mere second, just to be sure he was in control of his features, Loki raised his head slowly and smiled at Amora, forcing gratefulness to appear in that smile. She returned it and squeezed his shoulder in some bizarre show of camaraderie before stepping away. Her back was turned and she stood so close to the edge – was this Loki's chance? He had to decide immediately. If he succeeded, he would truly be alone.

 

But alone was better than this. Better than a pawn in someone else's game.

 

He raised his hands and summoned all of his power, all of the rage within him. There was no finesse in this and the knowledge he'd acquired on Asgard was useless to him. No, this was old, that spark that had always been in him and he barely knew how to handle. But it now served Loki well; he remembered the feeling of pressure welling in him until it was ready to explode.

 

Loki knew he _had_ to do it if he was to survive, but he had never hurt anyone before, not really. What would it feel like? What would he do-

 

Before he could lose his nerve, Loki let the energy fill him up and a green blast exploded from his palms, slamming into Amora. Her back arched and she fell forward.

 

The enchantress tumbled over the edge, her scream resonating as she plummeted down and the boat bore forward. Loki jumped up and grasped the steering mechanism with both hands, squeezing hard so that his sweaty palms wouldn't slip on the cool metal. He had watched carefully as she used it so it only took him a few tries to speed up and change the direction to – elsewhere than she had been heading. He seated himself, pretending he was calm even though there was no one to see. He pretended he knew what to do.

 

* * *

 

“I see him.”

 

The conversation – or perhaps an argument as Thor, Sif and Frigga simply could not reach a decision on what steps to take next – died instantly and they all turned to Heimdall, who did not need prompting and continued.

 

“He's alone on a _skúta._ Flying over the north west part of the Kaldr Forest. He was heading north and just now turned east instead.”

 

 _What is he doing?_ Thor thought.

 

“And the cloaking spell simply lifted?” Thor inquired immediately.

 

“Yes. He appeared suddenly.”

 

“Well, look for any clues! Is someone nearby? Is there something on the boat to-”

 

“There is a green shawl.”

 

Silence fell over the small group standing by the Bifrost, interrupted by Sif's dark chuckle.

 

“He got rid of her,” she said. Thor noted the hint of admiration in her tone.

 

“We don't know that,” Thor said, cutting her off, dread coiling in his stomach. “She's in possession of something very powerful and dangerous. It can't have been that easy.”

 

Thor knew he had to face the situation head on – the time for waiting and hesitating was over – and his blood was churning at the thought of finally being able to take action, to race out to meet his enemy and end this once and for all.

 

“Heimdall, you will send me into his path. Sif, call Fandral. Go to Jotunheim and tell Laufey and Farbauti everything.”

 

“Everything?” she echoed dubiously.

 

“Yes, everything. We have been burned by secrecy and silence. We have to fix it with it honesty. There may be more she has planned and they need to be ready.”

 

“Thor, he has gone. He startled and then the _skúta_ became cloaked again,” Heimdall spoke up, never looking away from the unseen place where his gaze was trained

 

Was Amora back with Loki? Thor prayed to the Norns that Sif had been wrong... if Loki had truly attacked Amora and lost... Taking Mjolnir from his belt, Thor strode forward to the the mouth of the Bifrost.

 

“Send me now.”

 

* * *

 

The blow caught him unaware and his head hit the bench, hard.

 

“You slimy little traitor,” Amora hissed at him. He blinked and tried to look up, but his vision was blurred thanks to the hit to the head. Even so, he could clearly make out her silhouette, towering over him, could feel the anger radiating from her.

 

 _How?_ How did she survive such a fall? _How did she get back to the boat?_

 

His thoughts were all but choked from him as she caught him by the throat and lifted him, shaking him in fury.

 

“How dare you?! I wanted to play nice, since you're such a pretty toy, but you've ruined that.”

 

Everything around him went black, as if he was being swallowed. For a moment Loki thought he'd passed out, possibly from the hit to the head or the lack of air as Amora's long fingers were still wrapped around his throat, but it slowly occurred to him that if that were the case, he would not be thinking about it.

 

Shortly, his vision cleared and he gasped, fighting a wave of nausea. His surroundings were dark, but not the pitch black of mere seconds before. It was a... cave?

 

“How,” he coughed out as soon as Amora let go of him. It made no sense. Did they just teleport? And if she knew how to master such a feat, why bother with the boat?

 

She didn't respond at first and Loki fell back, toppling to the ground. He felt so weak and dizzy, and yet he refused to take his eyes from her. She stood a few paces away from him and calmly straightened her clothes and hair. Only now Loki noted how unruly her attire was, torn and muddied.

 

“Well,” she turned to him when she was done, voice unbearably chipper. “I wanted to take you on a pretty ride to see all the sights that Asgard has to offer, in case your _loving_ husband had failed to do so, but seeing as you were so rude as to _throw me off,_ measures had to be taken.”

 

The saccharine bled from her voice quickly and with a bit of pride – and a lot of fear – Loki realized that he put a huge chip into her plan.

 

“What your very pretty, but very empty little head doesn't seem to realize is that you have revealed yourself to Heimdall. Why would you want that? Do you want back to Thor's clutches?”

 

“Why didn't we teleport in the first place? What are you hiding?” Loki shot back.

 

That seemed to amuse her terribly and an apprehension seized Loki.

 

“What am I hiding?” Amora started giggling, softly at first, then gradually getting louder. “ _What am I hiding?_ My dear Loki, since you asked so nicely... what I am hiding is Jotunheim. And us, of course, but that's nothing compared to the feat of making the infamous gate-keeper blind to an entire _world._ Now of course, I rather hoped that Thor would race to war for that insult, but somehow over the centuries, it seems he's grown rather _soft._ But no matter. I made some new friends, they've come to poke around the precious Realm Eternal a bit more, and here we are. There will be war, I promise you.

 

“And Thor will lose everything.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be very grateful for feedback :)
> 
> As you can see, this fic is getting rather long (for my standards anyway), so even the shortest comment to let me know you enjoy it means a lot to me, so please consider dropping a word or two! Thank you :)


	9. Amora

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge, huge thanks to Mona for her amazing beta-read.

“Be a good boy and do not get your hopes up.”

 

Those had been Amora's parting words as she left the cave. Alone in the dark, Loki let his mind puzzle together everything that had happened.

 

Loki lay on his side, knees bent to the point of aching as moisture from the dank earth floor seeped into his clothes. Amora had bound his wrists behind his back and his feet together at the ankles with sturdy, scratchy rope. Still reeling from the horrible truth she revealed to him, he had been too stunned to put up a fight as she slipped the coils of rope about his limbs. He had dully registered an odd tingling sensation springing from where his feet and wrists were pressed together, but when a wave of heat came over him, he strained his head to the side and caught a glimpse of his bare elbow -- tucked almost painfully at his side, fading back into its natural blue.

 

Somehow, she had managed to suppress his magic.

 

The regret that he'd let his chance to escape sunk in a little deeper, but there was really nothing he could have done.

 

Loki had learned from his seidr tutors that teleportation was possible, but extremely difficult and taxing on the wielder of such magic – if Amora possessed enough power to travel through space without the aid of the Bifrost and, as it seemed, without any considerable energy drain on her part, it also likely meant she had the power to hide an entire realm from the rest of the universe.

 

Jotunheim, concealed. Was that what Thor considered an act of aggression? Would his parents or any of their allies realize what was happening? Loki shuddered as he pictured his realm unaware and unprepared for the rallying forces of Asgard that were ready to strike out against this perceived offence.

 

Mingling with this fear , another sensation – a troubling sense of guilt almost as unwelcome as the tightening of his stomach and slight tremble in his fingers – began to settle in. Perhaps he'd been wrong about Thor. Perhaps... no. No matter what Thor thought, he still acted terribly; he had imprisoned his _husband_ and readied his forces for war against his homeland. Those things would not be easily forgotten nor forgiven, and yet Loki felt a fraction of relief. It was not Thor's plan: there was no malicious intent, no plan to betray and conquer Jotunheim that had prompted Thor to marry him.

 

Perhaps, there would be time enough later to consider all of that. For now, Loki's thoughts circled back to Amora.

 

_Be a good boy and do not get your hopes up._

 

Something in that expression roused him and made him consider Amora's actions more closely.

 

She should not have revealed her plan to him – it was careless and dangerous, done as she lost herself in her own anger and elation. Her mind was formidable, but there was something about her, a certain strain, like a string pulled too hard.

 

She may have survived his desperate attempt to push her off the boat, but it was still a setback in her well-laid plans. Loki was supposed to trust her for a lot longer, to remain clueless as to her involvement. And now she was gone, probably venturing to fix those mistakes and to make sure everything happened the way she had planned.

 

_There will be war, I promise you. And Thor will lose everything._

 

No. Things were not yet set in stone. Amora was powerful, but not omnipotent.

 

There was something else niggling at Loki's brain. Amora had said she was disappointed with Thor's moderate reaction to Jotunheim's disappearance and his husband's 'betrayal.' Loki certainly didn't think Thor's treatment of him – being hauled to a tower and locked up there – could be considered _moderate_ , but he could understand her line of thinking. She wanted war, but Thor had been uncharacteristically _calm_ about the whole thing and had not given it to her. Not yet.

 

And in that, Loki saw a chance. As long as war had not begun, things were far from lost. He could still do something. If only he could get to Thor and _explain_.

 

Yes. _Getting his hopes up_ was precisely what he must do.

 

Amora's main advantage was hiding from the gatekeeper Heimdall, which most likely meant that the cave was obscured from view, but...she was sure that he would not be able to escape, that much was clear. But what if he _did_ escape? What if he ran as far away from the cave as he could go until he could be seen and found?

 

Strengthened by his new goal, Loki arched his back and pushed his legs up – nearly bending his body in half – and pushed his shoulder firmly to the ground to gain some leverage. His thin fingers easily hooked between the loops of the ropes that tied his ankles together and he carefully felt across the surface of his restraints to find the knot. When he located it, he grimaced – it was tight and large, tangled in some shape he could not understand from mere touch, and he was wary of tugging at it too much, lest it tighten further. After a bout of squirming and thinking and _not getting anywhere_ , Loki huffed in annoyance and let his body go slack on the ground again.

 

It wasn't until he started nuzzling his cheek in the dirt, breathing a sigh of relief at how much cooler it was than the air that hovered around him, that he realized just how heated his skin felt. The balmier air of Asgardian summer was damp and almost suffocating even here in the dark of the cave now that he was in his Jotun skin again Loki breathed slowly and allowed himself to acknowledge how hot he was. The sole torch that barely illuminated the large cave seemed to emit enough heat to make him squirm in greater discomfort. To make matters worse, the temperature was bringing on a pulsing headache, and for a moment he felt like his bout of determination was soon to dissolve. He could not give up though. He stilled, thinking about what could be done about his restraints.

 

A thought struck him: Amora's ropes tampered the magic that was purposefully giving him Aesir skin. What about his abilities that were innate to the Jotnar? That was seidr too, of course, but it was natural to every one of his kin, a power that existed on a cellular level. Was it possible that whatever enchantment Amora had used on her ropes was not fit to suppress something so deeply ingrained in his very nature?

 

Closing his eyes to concentrate more deeply, he tried to summon as much deep frost cold as he could to his fingers. Immediately he could feel the power stirring, unhindered by the restraints, and he pushed and pushed until the rope stiffened and frosted over, becoming brittle and easier to break. He tugged hard until the fibres of the rope that touched his skin cracked, then he once again focused on channelling as much cold as he could to the newly exposed rope.

 

_ Tug, freeze, tug, freeze. _

 

It was slow, but it was definitely working. Spurred on by the success, he pushed harder, ignoring the growing pain in his head and stomach and limbs caused by the strain of conjuring such deep cold in this dangerously warm place.

 

_Tug, freeze, tug--_

 

His head was pounding and his throat felt as though it drying by the second, but it no longer mattered. Loki heard the final crack and split of the ropes, and his wrists broke free.

 

There was no time to rest – all of his effort would be for naught if Amora came in right now and discovered that he almost freed himself. Clenching his teeth to stop himself from gagging, Loki pushed himself up on one elbow and rolled over to a sitting position. He could work from sight _and_ touch now, and his fingers were free to set to work on the bindings on his feet. It was easier this way, or at least it would have been were he not so drained already, but after agonizing minutes, the other rope finally came free as well.

 

Almost immediately, he felt a little stronger as the dampening effect fell away. Loki realized he would have to allow enough time to change back to his Aesir skin, otherwise he would not get very far in the heat.

 

The last time he had done so – shed his natural looks into those native to his new home – it had been under the gentle guidance of queen Frigga. It had not sat terribly well with him, to transform himself that way, but she had made it almost a game for him and continuously reminded him that he was not doing this because of his appearance – and by extension, for the acceptance of others – but simply for his comfort, so that he could move freely outside even when the sun was high in the sky and warming everything. As he scraped for the energy to make the shift, he thought of her and what a friend she has been to him.

 

Loki shivered violently when the change was complete; a sudden shock of cold hit his now-pale skin. After enduring the crippling heat for so long, it felt as though he had been submerged in ice water The sensation was jarring, but he couldn't dwell on it – freedom was close and he had to go. He stumbled and his head spun when he finally got up and he had to support himself by leaning on the jagged walls of the cave.

 

Once he reached the mouth of the cave, Loki understood why it was so cold to his Aesir skin: night had fallen and brought it with a chill in the air. He thought back to the torch he left in the cave, unaware that he might need it once he braved the short distance between where he was being held and the cave opening, but of course it would be foolish to reveal himself by carrying it anyway. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings; there was a small clearing in front of him And, at his back was a rock massif. Everywhere else, he was surrounded by a dark, unwelcoming forest. There was only one way to go really – forward.

 

The clearing had been illuminated by starlight, but soon he was running underneath the heavy branches that blocked what little light there was and he was going blindly, feet stumbling on roots and uneven patches of dirt. The forest was nothing like the tidy gardens around the palace and nothing could have prepared him for the frightening reality of it, the sounds and strange smells and the unfamiliar terrain. Jotunheim was a world of ice, beautiful and vast, while this felt like a grave, dirt and moisture closing in around him, sharp greenery cutting into his limbs and snatching at his clothing.

 

But he ran. It was impossible to be sure in the near darkness, but he tried to follow a straight line, side-stepping only when larger trees or ponds of water got into his way. It seemed as though every step brought with it the fear of a harsh fall, and a few times he he almost did tumble, catching himself on branches or tree trunks at the last second. His palms and arms were badly scratched and though he barely felt it, he knew he was bleeding from some of the cuts.

 

One daring step after another, Loki pursued the way. His ankles and knees were beginning to ache from the strain of running on the uneven ground, especially as he kept slipping on wet leaves and catching his feet twigs and rocks. At one point, he did fall, his foot connecting painfully with something hard, and it sent him flying forward. He barely managed to brace himself on his hands and elbows to avoid hitting his face, and for a second he froze, overcome with the sudden need to stay down, to curl on the ground and not move. Loki did not give in to this impulse, though, and after a moment, he clambered back to his feet. He had to slow down after that – his toes were throbbing in pain and his knees felt stiff, unwilling to bend.

 

He panted from near exhaustion, his breath wheezing in short gulps. He was so focused on his throbbing feet and the drag of air through his nose that the sound filtering through the trees didn't register fully with him at first.

 

“Lo-o-ki...Little Loki, where are you?”

 

He froze instinctively, every muscle in his body tightening, breath burning in his lungs. No. _No_.

 

Amora's dangerously sweet singsong call seemed to surround him. “Come out, come out wherever you are,” she called, as if they were playing a children's game.

 

Loki strained to see the enchantress, but in the near darkness he could barely make out the outlines of trees and leaves where enough starlight shone through. There was no movement. Nothing.

 

“Come back here, Loki!”

 

For a moment, he worried that Amora's call held an enchantment, but there was no pull in him to obey – only the need to get as far away from her as possible. Her voice echoed as though she was far away and, after just a moment of hesitation, he started moving again, walking as briskly as he could. He dared not wait for her to catch up and snatch him.

 

It proved to be a mistake. As soon as the leaves crackled underneath his feet, her voice got louder. “Lo-o-ki.”

 

He broke into a run again, mindless of the pain. _Just get away. Just go._

 

“Almost got you!”

 

Something grabbed Loki hard, and pulled him behind a large tree. At the same time his mouth was covered, muffling his attempt to cry out. He trashed and struggled, scraping to summon a spell, a blast of energy, anything, until-

 

“Shh, shhh!” hissed a voice by his ear. “It's me.”

 

_Thor._

 

Loki stopped struggling immediately, his body stilling far quicker than he would have liked once his rational mind caught up on what was happening. This was not a victory. Thor could still be viewing him as an enemy, an escaped prisoner.

 

Thor was holding him from behind, one powerful arm wrapped around Loki's midsection, the other across his chest as Thor kept his palm pressed against Loki's mouth, firmly but without hurting him.

 

Thor started speaking, quieter than Loki would have believed him capable of, whispering close to Loki's ear.

 

“I know it's hard, but please trust me: I mean you nor your realm any harm, Loki. We have been mislead by Amora.”

 

He knew. _He knew._

 

Sucking in a breath through his nose, Loki sagged back against Thor, the last of his energy fleeing him as he came to realization things may yet be fixed. Thor was his enemy no more.

 

“Loki?” Thor inquired in the same barely audible whisper. Snapping back to reality, Loki nodded against Thor's palm. His mouth was freed almost instantly and Loki turned, fighting against the grip of Thor's arm and pressed his face to Thor's chest.

 

“Oh,” he heard Thor breathe somewhere above him and then both of Thor's arms were around him, hugging him closely. “Shh.”

 

Loki could not afford this moment of weakness, no matter how much he ached for it. Amora was likely prowling the woods, and their only cover was the large tree trunk that Thor had dragged him behind – not nearly enough against her formidable magic. He did, however, allow himself a few moments feeling incredibly safe in Thor's warm embrace.

 

Fearing for their mutual safety, it was easier to be together out here. But what would become of them once they were safe in the city, back in the palace? It was impossible to know, and it was with this thought that Loki made himself pull away.

 

Even in the near black, Loki could see Thor gazing down at him, his bright blue eyes darkened by something more than just the lack of light. It was wolfish and dangerous, but the hands encircling Loki's upper arms, holding him safe and close, were gentle and Loki knew that his dark look wasn't directed at him. A shiver ran through his battered body anyway, a painful reminder of just how tired he was.

 

“Please,” Thor whispered and Loki fought to clear his mind. To understand what it was Thor was asking.

 

“I know, she-” Loki rasped, almost choking on the roughness of the whisper that came out of his mouth. “She told me.”

 

For a second Thor didn't react and then Loki could feel him nodding in the dark.

 

“What does she want?”

 

“War,” Loki gulped. “She wanted to provoke you into attacking Jotunheim and bring ruin to Asgard.”

 

The fact that she almost succeeded remained unspoken between them. For the moment.

 

“She is close. Stay here.”

 

Thor began pulling away and Loki grabbed at him desperately.

 

“No!” he hissed. “You must be careful. She has something... some kind of powerful talisman. She can do terrible feats of magic.”

 

“I know, Loki. Calm yourself, I know.” Thor's voice was hushed and even, almost coaxing and Loki made himself unclench the fingers that he was digging into Thor's arms, embarrassed. He was acting like a child.

 

“Have you seen what it is? Does she carry it?” Thor asked then and Loki shook his head.

 

“No... but she must have it on her.”

 

“Good.”

 

Loki didn't know why Thor was so pleased about that. It meant she was _dangerous_.

 

“Stay here,” Thor repeated. Loki could only nod in agreement. If he could, he would stand by Thor's side and tear her apart, lungs filling with the same anger he had felt as she mocked him and Thor in the shop. But he'd had his chance and it went awry.

 

He knew when to step back.

 

With one last look of reassurance, Thor pushed himself away and stepped out to the forest, taking at least a dozen steps away from Loki before he stopped. Overwhelmed and exhausted, stomach tied in knots, Loki slid down the trunk and knelt on the soft, damp ground, grasping at the bark to keep himself up and watch what was happening.

 

“Amora!” Thor called in a deep voice that resonated through the darkness. Loki shivered. “Amora, come out and face me. It is me that you want.”

 

“You are quite wrong about that.”

 

Loki's body jerked. Amora's voice was soft, almost wistful, but it resonated as strongly as it had when she called for him as she hunted him.

 

“I do not want you, not anymore. It is only your suffering and eventual death that interest me.”

 

The echoing words chilled Loki, especially as he still couldn't physically see where she was. He suspected Thor couldn't either.

 

“Either way, I am here. Come claim what you want from me.”

 

“Pathetic,” she spat and Loki looked frantically around. It sounded real this time, as though she abandoned the enchantment that hid her. And so she did, materializing half way between where Loki was hiding and where Thor stood. “So sure of yourself.”

 

Still seeming impeccably calm, Thor turned to face her, Mjolnir in hand. “I have conquered you before, and that was on a field much less suited for my talents than a battlefield.”

 

Loki was not quite sure what that meant. He never did get to the bottom of the conflict that had gotten Amora banished in the first place. His instincts, along with and some things that Amora and Thor had said, gave him reason to believe they had history, but now he was confused by Thor's declaration. Surely by that 'field' he did not mean a bed. He clenched his fist, bile rising in his throat, and he fought back the urge to jump up and _hurt_ her.

 

“Ah, but I did not have then what I do now,” Amora declared with a laugh. Then, without warning she flicked her hand lightly, as a lady might dismiss a servant, and violent winds rose, making Thor stumble with their intensity. Loki crouched low to the ground, hoping the tree's trunk would shelter him from the unnatural storm.

 

And yet, over the loud rumble of the wind Amora conjured, Loki could hear Thor laughing.

 

“How arrogant are you, to try and send a hurricane against a Storm lord?!” Thor shouted and Loki was flattened again as the wind change direction and blew even harder. He could not see properly, but when he managed to glimpse behind the tree, he saw Thor hovering above the ground, Mjolnir spinning in his hand so fast it was nothing but a blur. He saw Amora also, her green dress whipping wildly around her, but she stood still, something that seemed impossible against such a force.

 

Thor struck out with his hammer then and the sky _exploded_. Loki was blinded by the light and his nostrils were filled with the scent of ozone, intense enough to make him gag. He curled his body against the tree, head pressed between his knees and his arms wrapped around his own body, trying to shield himself from the noise and light. Perhaps later he might question if this was cowardice, to be so frightened by the force of the elements that Thor was drawing out and taming to do his will, but at that moment, he could only hold on.

 

When his eyelids stopped burning in bright red and the wind quieted just a little, Loki chanced another look. The sight was horrible. Thor and Amora were locked in tight combat and somehow, shockingly, Amora was evading or outright deflecting Thor's blows, using long wisps of green and blue magic. As Loki watched, Thor's expression went from calm determination to outright fury and he snarled, the sky flashing white again. It hurt Loki's eyes, but this time, he was unable to look away.

 

Thor's red cape fluttered wildly in the wind that hadn't dissipated since Thor threw himself to battle, and his armour glinted with each rapid movement as he strained to bring Amora down. The enchantress was wrapped in pulsing bolts of energy, green and blue mingling together, a sight that Loki found rather unusual.

 

At one moment, Amora slipped nimbly away from a bolt of lightning that Thor sent her way and he roared, plummeting into the air, apparently angered by her evasion and the way he kept backing out. This somehow did not surprise Loki. Even with all her power, why would she face Thor in a simple battle of strength? Her best choice would be to flee with the source of it and continue as she had done, spreading dissent and working subtly.

 

It seemed that all three of them were aware of this.

 

Amora stopped, coating herself in that peculiar dual glow, and sneered.

 

“You cannot accomplish anything. You cannot beat me. And look around! I have already won! That treacherous little wretch could not wait to run away from you. It's a surprise he did not beat me to killing you, slitting your throat in your sleep!”

 

Loki dimly realized she was talking about him.

 

_No_ , he wanted to yell at Thor, surprised at how his stomach lurched at Amora's accusations.

 

If Amora was trying to rile Thor up, she certainly succeeded. Loki had to crouch down yet again as Thor unleashed the white hot energy of his hammer. Even with his face tucked away to protect his eyes, he tried to listen to Thor's reply, but none came, at least not of the verbal kind. It was laughable – for all his doubt and anger, Loki could not bear to hear Amora say Thor had failed him. That was for Loki to decide – not her.

 

The destruction from the battle was spreading. A huge object, a half of a tree, flew past Loki, the branches biting painfully at his shoulder. He wasn't far from them – not nearly far _enough –_ but it was unthinkable that he move. He might be snatched up by the sharp wind, yes, but also he did not want to abandon Thor. He began to think about how to help Thor, how to aid him in felling this enemy. Amora had caused so much grief to them, perhaps she even damaged their relationship permanently.

 

Loki sat, the tree bark digging into his skin, and let this thought sink in.

 

He had admired his husband from the moment he laid his eyes on him. He was fascinated, aroused and frustrated by him. But it was Amora's interference that eventually caused Loki to _fear_ Thor, a feeling he never wanted to experience again; he never wanted to be at someone's mercy.

 

Perhaps he was small and powerless – a feeling he knew only too well from his home as everyone towered over him, even his peers growing to sizes he could never hope to match – at this very moment, cowed by his own exhaustion and wounds in the face of the great strengths that were being matched mere steps away from him – but Loki was also very, _very_ angry.

 

He hadn't forgiven Thor. He did not know how to deal with the insult and betrayal. But what he knew, clear as day, was that he wanted the chance to examine it all and make his own decisions.

 

He peeked from behind the tree just in time to see Amora force Thor backward so hard he landed on his back before he rolled over and launched himself into the air again. There were no trees left in their close proximity, the forest turned into a field of nothing but dirt and smoldering wood. Even the trunk that shielded Loki shook several times. Loki paid it no mind and stared as Thor spun the hammer and floated in the air, seemingly bursting with electric power.

 

His eyes... They were glowing, shining like lightning itself. Thor hovered in the air, the redness of his cape spilling against the darkness like blood and he was a _god_ with molten insides, threatening to burst. Loki was breathless and for a moment, he lost track of what was happening – he outright forgot the direness of the situation – and he simply wished, achingly, that those glowing eyes, crackling with electricity looked at him.

 

Neither Thor nor Amora showed any signs of holding back as they hurled attack after attack at one another. Everything was light and flames and deafening noise, and Loki lost all understanding of time, letting the sensations overwhelm him.

 

The first thing that broke through that painful, tearing monotony of rumble and fire was Amora's anguished scream. At the same time, Loki became aware of boots, dozens of boots rushing past him. The noise abated, as did the light, and he was left on the ground, gasping for breath, darkness dancing at the sides of his vision. He fought against it and forced himself to raise his head, if even for a moment, and saw Thor's eyes - blue again, but still crackling with light, meeting his own. Then it was all dark.

 

It must not have been much later when he came to – he was still at his spot by the tree, lying on the ground. Everything else felt different though, there was certain calmness all around him and his head was pillowed on something soft. Besides that, comfort was streaming through him, flowing from his right hand into the rest of his body.

 

He blinked.

 

On either side of him was Thor and Frigga, both kneeling and watching intently him with almost matched expressions of worry. Thor may have been the _Odinson_ , but looking at them both now, there was no mistaking the resemblance between mother and son. The queen was holding his right hand and it was her seidr, flowing from her to him in tendrils of pale green, that was making him feel so at ease.

 

The sight of Thor, his gentleness returned to him, and his handsome face hovering over Loki in fretful silence may have played a part in Loki's comfort, but he would not admit that.

 

“Is it-” Loki tried and coughed. “Is she gone?”

 

“Defeated,” Thor nodded, smiling very briefly. “Mother took her power. You are safe.Your... Jotunheim is safe.”

 

Loki would ask for details later; there were still so many blanks to fill. There was also the matter of the possible ruin that was their marriage. He would deal with all of that. Later.

 

For now, he relaxed into the sleepy warmth that Frigga was coating him in and he let his eyes settle on Thor before his vision blacked out again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I would love to hear from you if you enjoy this fic!
> 
> We are not done yet, not even close I hope ;)


	10. The Infinity Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks to Mona for her invaluable help.
> 
> I hope you guys don't hate me yet - school and life have been mildly hellish, so the updates take time and I'm very sorry. I hope to get back in the game during the Christmas holidays. As usual, I am a fickle fragile ball of ego, so feedback helps me write.
> 
> **Trigger warning for this chapter** : There will be mention of past mind-control and, by definition, rape. Maybe you have guessed it already in the context of the story, but anyway, I felt I needed to warn for the dialogue. If you absolutely can't read a mention of it, quit reading when Loki picks up a pillow.

When he opened his eyes again, he could see that Frigga was still by his side. The same could not be said of Thor, and a pang of something cold ran through Loki.

 

They were no longer in the forest. All the pain Loki had felt had dulled to a mere soreness, marked most prominently by the urge to stretch his stiff, aching muscles. His exhaustion was nothing but a warm sleepiness now and – all in all – he felt better. At least, physically.

 

Frigga smiled at him and was about to speak, but she was interrupted by a soft groan coming from somewhere in the room. Loki turned at the sound. When he realized who it was, his mood brightened instantly, though only partially. Loki was wrong to think Thor had gone elsewhere; he was not at Loki's bedside but he was close by, sitting on an examination table with his chest bare; a healer was spreading some kind of unguent over an injury on his shoulder. By now, Loki could see they were in an infirmary of sorts, or perhaps the main healing rooms. They were definitely back in the palace and that in itself was a relief.

 

As pleased as he was with seeing Thor, in a sort of panicked, instinctive way, it quickly occurred to him that he did not actually want to speak with him, not yet. He wanted to _see_ him, to know he was close and that they were all safe, but to have words with him so soon? No. So he turned his attention to Frigga instead.

 

“What happened?” he asked her.

 

She sighed and squeezed his hand with her own. “Where should I begin?”

 

It was a genuine question, not a rhetorical one, and it quickly dawned on Loki why she was asking it – she must have sensed that there were some things to be talked through between Thor and Loki, alone. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.

 

“I don't know how you found me. And in the forest... it was too much,” he said, unhelpfully, while realizing that even though his body was healed, there was still a fog of sleepiness over him, tying his tongue. “Perhaps you should start there?”

 

“Heimdall saw you flying on a _skúta_ , just briefly,” she told him. “That's when Thor knew to go to the Kaldr Forest, searching for you. I take it you know that Amora's power was not her own?”

 

He nodded, growing uncomfortably aware that the healer was done caring for Thor and that Thor had moved closer to the them, just at the edge of Loki's vision, listening quietly. “When she teleported, it was quite obvious – hardly anyone has that kind of skill without it taking an incredible toll, even experienced seidrmadr. And then she started boasting, telling me of all she could do... All she _had_ done - to Jotunheim and how she had hid us.”

 

Frigga nodded. “I stayed with Heimdall and tried to learn what it was she was using. I dare say I succeeded at the very last moment.”

 

A quiet scoff came from Thor's direction. Loki stubbornly did not turn that way, and instead listened as Frigga continued.

 

“Do you know of the Infinity Stones, Loki?”

 

He'd never heard of such things before, but a shiver ran through him nonetheless. “No...”

 

“Amora possessed one of them – the Space Stone. I believe she acquired it on Midgard, though I cannot be sure. The Stones are objects of immense power on their own and are capable of unimaginable feats if used together. Thankfully, she only had the one. It is likely that she did not know there are more.”

 

Learning about existence of such an artefact made it seem that much luckier that they had succeeded in overpowering Amora. “And you took it from her? How?”

 

Frigga smiled. “There is an old spell that can disconnect the wielder from the stone's power. I was able to cast it. It only works for a short time – seconds, nothing more – but it was enough to subdue Amora and secure the Stone.”

 

“And Amora? What happened to her?”

 

Frigga glanced over to Thor and Loki grit his teeth.

 

“Tell me!” Loki demanded. He quickly regretted it, however, when Frigga's gaze that told him very clearly that, regardless of what he had been through, he was not to take such a tone with her.

 

“If I may be allowed to _finish_ ,” she said pointedly. “She was severely weakened by having the Stone's power ripped from her. If she survives, she will be tried and very possibly, executed for her crimes.”

 

Loki nodded. Amora deserved her fate, whatever it was determined to be. He knew that. A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach nonetheless. Might this have been his fate if the truth had not been revealed?

 

“And my- Jotunheim?”

 

“Laufey and Farbauti have been made aware of everything that's happened. I assume we will receive an envoy soon, so that we might discuss all the details and their right to proceed with a trial of their own, if they so choose. I'm sure you will want to speak to them as well.”

 

That surprised Loki a bit. What were his parents thinking? They would be enraged, Loki was sure of that.

 

Taking advantage of the lull in the conversation, another healer approached and did a quick examination of Loki, asking him questions about how he was feeling. He hadn't lied when he told them nothing hurt and he felt fine, but part of him suspected he could be bleeding from his insides and he would say that anyway, no matter what. He wanted to leave the healing chambers. He wanted to hide.

 

He should have known that he wouldn't be so lucky.

 

“Go rest,” Frigga told him. “Both of you.”

 

Then it was time for Thor to squirm under her strict inspection, but he dutifully put on a tunic, hopping off the table and picking up a dressing gown which he then held out for Loki to slip into. “Shall we?”

 

Loki nodded, for lack of anything better to say. Without the convenient ice-breaker that was being hunted and in the middle of a battle, the prospect of being alone with was an infuriatingly confusing one.

 

Nothing more was said, except Frigga calling out after Loki to remind him to come have tea with her whenever he was feeling ready.

 

The silence between Thor and Loki only stretched further, and by the time they arrived at their chambers, it was nearly unbearable. Stepping inside the shared living space was even worse. Everything was so quiet and familiar. They had spent so many pleasant moments here. Loki looked around the tidy, warm room, trying to understand how it did not change at all.

 

Of course it hadn't. It had only been three days.

 

He was absurdly grateful when Thor was the first to speak. Loki didn't want to do it – he didn't know what he might say.

 

“I am going to bathe. Perhaps you'd like to join me?”

 

Loki turned and looked at Thor then, something he hadn't been able to do back in the healing room. Something in his expression must have startled Thor; he raised his hands in a calming, slightly defensive motion.

 

“It was only a thought. I would understand if you don't-”

 

“Sure.” The word tumbled out of Loki's mouth before he could think better of it.

 

_Better to get this over with._

 

Not even their first bath together was this tense. Well, it had been, but for entirely different, more pleasant reasons. Loki remembered it well: the way his breath caught in his chest as he got to gaze at Thor's naked form, the way he'd felt so flattered that Thor would ignore his own discomfort simply to please Loki.

 

It seemed worlds away, now.

 

Once the bath water was ready, Loki slid in silently.

 

In his Aesir skin, he could tolerate the steamy heat better than his natural form would ever allow, and the soaking itself was amazing. Though there was not a scratch nor bruise on him to show for the ordeal he'd been through, the heated water was soothing on the soreness that lingered, and nothing could compare to a bit of comfort and rest.

 

Loki took to watching Thor's reflection on the water's surface – it was somehow easier than facing him directly – not looking away even when it rippled and rose slightly as Thor entered the pool and submerged with a sigh. For another moment, the only sound was the soft splash of displaced water, but then Loki heard a deep breath being taken.

 

“There are two Frost Giants in captivity, down in the dungeons,” Thor began. Loki's mouth fell open, anger rising in him, both because of the news itself and because it was the first thing that Thor chose to say to him.

 

_Really, Thor?_

 

“Bear with me,” Thor said with a chuckle, asking Loki to let him continue. “They will be released soon as they only attacked Asgard because they were controlled by Amora. It was thanks to one of them that I finally understood what was happening. He could not speak and yet he gave me the information, revealing her farce. He made me see the truth.”

 

Was any of this meant to make Loki feel better?

 

“And?” he asked coldly.

 

“And... somehow I simply never seem to be able to say the right things when I'm with you.” He sounded crestfallen.

 

Loki gritted his teeth and decided to meet Thor's gaze, albeit stubbornly. When he did, though, Thor was looking him with such a soft, patient expression; he _knew_ it was not meant to be an insult, but still it took a lot of control to simply purse his lips and let Thor go on.

 

“I was rash in my youth: speaking my mind – no, often mind had nothing to do with it. I spoke my- my blood, my heart...I know not. Yelling, cursing... sometimes I was so angry I would all but choke on the words and resort to destroying things or,” Thor lowered his head, “or even hurting people instead.

 

And then I became king.”

 

As Thor went on, Loki found he no longer had the urge to look away from Thor, even though Thor himself was speaking more towards the water than he was to him.

 

“I had to learn how to mince words, to speak carefully and with forethought. I suppose after a time, it became less grating, less unnatural. I became a diplomat. What took me so long to realize is that...I should not have kept going like that with you. I should have been your husband first, and a diplomat second.”

 

Thor looked up then and smiled. “Just because the words sound nice and rounded doesn't mean they are the right ones.”

 

“Are you admitting to dishonesty?” Loki got out, frowning. He knew that wasn't what Thor was saying at all, but Loki was contrary by nature, and he wanted to... challenge him, perhaps.

 

“I wasn't dishonest, Loki – I was misguided. I am admitting that I should have taken the time to ask you what you were doing in my office, about how you got that note, instead of making accusations. Most importantly, I should have confided in you, told you what was happening. If I had done that, perhaps it all would have been simpler.”

 

There was no reproach in Thor's words, and it was clear he was chastising only himself, but Loki knew well the same could be said about him.

 

“That sounds so easy, doesn't it?” Loki pointed out, discomfited. “And yet what did you do instead? You blamed me – you _imprisoned_ me.”

 

“I was wrong,” Thor said plainly. “I was misled.”

 

Gritting his teeth, Loki looked away. He was almost ready to accept this as form of apology, but then...

 

“And I did what I thought was necessary to protect Asgard.”

 

And that _hurt_. Because it meant he would do it again.

 

Loki blinked slowly several times. “You are not even sorry, are you,” he said quietly. “You just... you expect me to forgive and forget.”

 

“Of course I am sorry!” Thor replied, incredulous, and spread his arms, sloshing water over the rim of the tub. “I... I cared for you from the moment I met you. I never wanted to do anything to hurt you.”

 

“But when it came to it, you simply did!”

 

“I thought there was going to be _war_ , Loki. I thought you were spying... betraying me. And I will repeat it as many times as you need me to – it was so wrong of me not to push harder. I should have asked more-”

 

“That's enough,” Loki cut him off. He couldn't bear to sit through another litany of all of the things Thor _should have_ done.

 

Silence filled the room. Loki could only subject himself to the suffocating tension for a couple more minutes before he rose from the water and wrapped a towel around himself, leaving Thor behind without a word.

 

In their bedroom, Loki was distracted as he slipped into a long nightshirt; his mind replayed the talk he'd had with Thor and unease and anger settled in him, making it impossible to relax. He gingerly sat down on the bed, feeling like he was on pins and needles. Thor emerged from the bath shortly after and they shared a moment of awkward eye contact.

 

_Brilliant._

 

Thor said nothing, pulling on a pair of loose sleeping pants and a worn tunic. Loki wondered if perhaps there would be a reprieve from conversation, but soon it became apparent that Thor thought there was more that needed to be said. He took a deep breath as he approached Loki. It was easier to look at Thor now, with all of that golden skin covered. It made the situation feel a bit less raw. The bath had probably been a mistake.

 

“You still have not spoken of your own adventures. You have escaped Amora twice now, have you not?” Thor offered with a slight smile, settling on the edge of the bed. “The power that Amora had with the help of the Infinity Stone was immense...how did you escape?”

 

Loki bit his lip and scooted backwards until he could lean against the headboard. He could not get any closer to Thor – not yet – but he was relaxing a little.

 

“It was not... She _talks_ so much.” 

 

Thor chuckled softly, and Loki looked at him, narrowing his eyes. “Do you want to hear this or not?”

 

“You are right; I'm sorry,” he said, clearing his throat. “Please – go on.”

 

Loki smoothed a few non-existent wrinkles from his nightshirt. “Well, I waited until she was distracted, and then I pushed her off the boat with my magic. But she came back soon after.”

 

Thor gave him an odd look, and Loki could feel his face colouring.

 

“What? Are you surprised I am capable of violence?”

 

Thor's eyebrows rose high on his forehead and he shook his head. “No, I think you are capable of whatever you need to be when the situation calls for it, but... were you not restrained? Your wrists...” Thor nodded towards Loki's - now fully healed - hands.

 

Oh. _Damn_.

 

“Not on the boat, I wasn't. She didn't restrain me until we reached that cave... after I'd attacked her.”

 

Thor was silent, waiting for Loki to continue.

 

Right. Honesty. They were being _honest_ with each other now.. Loki blew out a breath and looked at the ceiling rather than Thor.

 

“I went with Amora of my own volition, Thor. She didn't restrain me because she hadn't kidnapped me.”

 

There was a long pause after Loki's revelation and he clenched his fists. He should have gone with his first instinct and made something up. Sometimes, honesty was overrated.

 

“I thought she was lying.” Thor's voice was quiet, unusually so, and Loki chanced a glimpse at him. Thor wasn't looking at him, his head was down instead. They both knew what Thor meant – out of the many things that Amora taunted Thor with during their battle, this had been one of the worst.

 

_That treacherous little wretch could not wait to run away from you. _

 

“Well, she _was_ lying,” Loki spluttered. “I wasn't- I didn't-”

 

He clearly recalled the fear – the need to protest – when Amora told Thor that he hated him, that she was surprised he hadn't killed him in his sleep. But after what was said in the bath, Loki didn't feel particularly pressured to set things right.

 

“I didn't think her my ally,” he said eventually. “Like I said, I attacked her at my first chance.”

 

Thor shook his head and straightened up. “Of course.” He offered Loki a weak smile, but his eyes were still sad.

 

Loki pulled a pillow into his lap and gave it a weak punch.“What is it with her – with you two? You never told me what happened. What did she do that was so bad to have her banished from Asgard?”

 

Thor looked at him then, the sadness behind his eyes even more obvious. Loki didn't like this - this quiet defeat that seemed to fill Thor after Loki confessed to joining with Amora, albeit briefly. It wasn't right... it wasn't _Thor._

 

Thor straightened his shoulders and took a deep breath. With Amora's jibes still fresh in his mind, for a moment, Loki really dreaded what he might say. If they had been involved-

 

“She enchanted me. She made me believe I was in love with her,” Thor said, turning his face away from Loki. 

 

Loki almost gasped upon hearing the truth at last. And to think he had been shamefully hoping it were anything but them being  _lovers..._

 

Thor went on, not waiting for Loki to prompt him or ask for details. His words tumbled out in a rush, as though he was trying to physically push through it. “I broke from the enchantment on my own eventually, but it took... it took days. I remember everything vividly. Doing all the things with her I never would have done were I in my right mind.”

 

A sick, cold feeling spread through Loki as he let the meaning of the words sink in. Neither of them spoke for long minutes after that, save for Loki's quiet 'I'm sorry.' His mind was spinning and yet it kept coming back one thing. Perhaps he was trying to escape the situation they were in  _now_ by returning to old disagreements between them, but he could not help it. 

 

“Are you- Do you not want to have sex now because of what happened?” He squeezed his eyes shut after asking the question, as if guarding himself from the answer, but Thor startled him with a bark of laughter instead.

 

“No, I want to. And I... I _have_. It happened a very long time ago...but what I still carry with me is the fear that the other person...” Thor trailed off, then got up and began to pace the length of the room. Loki watched him like a hawk, the pieces of the puzzle finally slotting into place.

 

“I need to be sure the other person truly wants it, too – not out of some sense of obligation. Or worse, that they are doing it out of fear or because they feel it's expected of them. It can't be that way.” Thor finished with a meaningful glance at Loki.

 

Loki groaned and let his head fall back onto the headboard with a dull thump. “That must be hard, since you are the king and can, in theory, order _anything_ to _any one_ of your subjects.”

 

“I'm glad you finally see my point,” Thor murmured then, his tone a little too dry for Loki's liking, especially because it made him smile. He pinched the bridge of his nose as Thor sat back on the bed.

 

“So _of course_ , I am the personification of all of your fears. I am younger, I belong to you-”

 

“You do not-”

 

“Yes, I do,” Loki interrupted him. “You said we wouldn't be diplomats anymore, Thor. You bought me with the Casket. And that's all right. I am glad my parents have it. I never minded coming here.”

 

The tension from previous hours was gone; it was somewhat easier for him to admit these things now – learning what had happened to Thor had diffused some of his own anger.. Maybe they haven't resolved everything yet, but that was not a bad thing. Instead of plowing forward with niggling doubts, they had taken a step back. By pronouncing the truths about their marriage, they had become something like allies again.

 

“You really would do anything for this realm, wouldn't you?” Loki mused quietly, thinking of the strain on Thor's face when he tried to explain his perspective on what had happened.

 

“Almost anything.”

 

_Almost._ Loki liked the sound of that. He enjoyed the thought that he might, in time, become the exception.. 

 

“Let's go to sleep,” Loki suggested after a while. Despite his seidr-aided rest, this entire conversation had drained him, and Thor himself looked downright ragged.

 

* * *

 

Thor was still reeling from the events of the day, but he saw the wisdom in Loki's suggestion. Many things – perhaps too many – were revealed and there was no need to dig deeper. He welcomed the softness of their bed and sank into it. Though his injuries had been nothing life threatening, his body still ached as it healed itself.

 

The room dimmed as Thor snuffed the lamp at his bedside table and he looked over at the small silhouette next to him, his heart clenching. He knew that Loki was still angry with him, and understandably so.

 

There was a part of Thor – very small but there nonetheless – that sounded suspiciously like his father, nudging at him to make grand, sweeping gestures of apologies, possibly in the hope that Loki would get caught up in the shining spectacle and not look too closely at the more tarnished truth beneath. He shook off the idea. Perhaps it was part of being just plain _stubborn,_ but Thor didn't want hide his thoughts from Loki. He wanted Loki to understand the terrible dilemma he had faced. He wanted Loki to forgive him – in time – despite the truth.

 

Their conversation about Amora made him feel equally raw and relieved. At the beginning of their marriage, Thor could not bring himself to tell Loki what had been done to him and, had they not gone through this ordeal, he may never have. While he didn't feeling guilty about waiting as long as he had, he was glad it happened now.

 

Only his parents and Sif knew, and more importantly, _understood_ , what had happened back then. The Warriors Three, being his close friends, knew of Amora's transgression, but as far as Thor could tell, they never grasped the full implications.

 

Of course, he hadn't been precisely eager to pick at _that_ wound. For weeks, if not months, he'd felt nauseated - _used_ – even after he'd been able to swim to the surface and break from Amora's enchantment. His mother, Sif, and even Odin – in his own way – were clearly concerned, but Thor had always pushed away their attempts to console him or make him speak about what had happened. In his mind, acknowledging what had happened to him was the same as giving Amora power, and he refused to let her influence him any longer. It was a spell, though vile and sick in its effect, and Thor conquered it as he did many things in his life: he fought, he drank, he _lived._ Eventually, bedmates did come, though they were few and far between.

 

With one more glance at Loki, he took a deep breath and scooted closer, very loosely sliding his arm over Loki's torso.

 

“May I?” he murmured. From the beginning, he had been very careful about touching Loki, and though it was odd that he would initiate closeness when he knew there was still a rift between them, he wanted to try. If Loki didn't want it, or was too distraught or angry to allow it, he would say so, and Thor would back off. It was that knowledge that gave Thor the courage.

 

None of those things happened. Loki simply nodded and shifted a little so that he was better folded against Thor's chest and Thor wrapped his arms around him a little tighter, nosing into the back of his neck to inhale the familiar scent of herbs and cold air that somehow still lingered on Loki.

 

Thor squeezed his eyes to weather the unexpected wave of emotion that swept through him.

 

“I was so very worried about you,” he whispered. “I couldn't find you for so long in the forest... I thought you might already be realms away, out of my reach.”

 

Thor could feel Loki's breath hitching; he buried his face in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed.

 

“I... I ran from the cave. I thought if I got far enough, you'd see me and-”

 

Loki stopped, shaking his head, covering Thor's face with his hair and it made him smile.

 

“I did. I found you.”

 

“I'm still angry, though,” Loki mumbled sleepily, tucking one of his feet between Thor's calves.

 

“I know.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts.


	11. Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, I did not even want to check to see just how exactly long it's been since the update. The end of last year was really shitty for me and then finals and start of the new semester came, neither of which exactly left me much time to work on this, but here we are, with a chapter sadly a bit shorten than usual.
> 
> Thousand thanks to Mona for her amazing beta-read, especially this time, because working on this chapter it pretty much felt like I've lost all ability to express myself properly.

Thor paced the length of the hall, casting worried glances at the closed doors every few minutes. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and under his clothes, leaving him feeling sticky and damp. His stomach tightened uncomfortably, compounding the guilt he already felt over his selfishness. He cringed inwardly at the thought of what was being discussed in that room.

 

Loki had every right to tell precisely what he wanted to the envoy from his homeland. Intellectually, Thor knew that. He also knew that, if he begged the other Jotun to take him back home, Thor would probably have to let him go.

 

The fact that the mere thought made his stomach roil in protest was quite telling indeed. Thor couldn't pinpoint the moment when his feelings had shifted from basic protectiveness and general obligation to be as good as possible to his husband to... whatever it was he was feeling for Loki now.

 

Idi, the envoy – tall, but uncharacteristically slim for a Jotun – arrived that morning. After he could confirm for himself that Loki was healed, he briefly conferred with Thor, who took him down to the dungeons to observe the still-unconscious Amora and to oversee the release of the two Jotuns held there. Apparently satisfied with what he had seen, Idi had no more questions. His tone was soft-spoken but rather curt as he told Thor precisely what information he intended to bring back to the king and queen.

 

Once their business was over, he asked to speak with Loki, making it clear that their meeting was to be private. He told Thor, in no uncertain terms, that his masters demanded he bring word from the prince himself and to advise him briefly, if need be.

 

After what felt like an eternity, they emerged.

 

Loki looked calm, dressed in black and green silks, his hair braided away from his face, still a pale Asgardian shade. But then again, Thor didn't suspect he would dramatically shift back to his Jotun skin to announce he was leaving him. It was Asgardian summer, and the envoy was enveloped in a subtly shivering barrier of freezing cold air to withstand the temperature.

 

“Your majesty.” Idi bowed to Thor. “With your permission, I will return to my masters post-haste; they are very eager to hear about their son's well-being. I feel confident in assuring them that this... unfortunate business is concluded.”

 

There was no mention of Loki returning to Jotunheim with him. Thor swallowed, relief making him go a little weak in the knees.

 

“Of course.” He forced himself to nod. “Please extend my greetings to King Laufey and Queen Farbauti, as well as my apologies and assurances that I will not let something like this happen again.”

 

The envoy's goodbyes to Loki were as formal as they were to Thor, though there was a mild note of familiarity he used with his fellow Jotun. What surprised Thor was Loki's reaction – he barely acknowledged him and a small crease appear on his forehead as he watched the other Jotun stride away.

 

That made Thor slightly nervous. What if Loki did want to leave but was not permitted for fear that their separation would mean loss of the Casket for Jotunheim?

 

It turned out not to be the case.

 

“I remember him from childhood,” Loki said into the tense silence between them. “He is not much older than me...”

 

“Were you friends?” Thor asked with genuine interest, still not sure what prompted Loki's coolness towards the man.

 

Loki didn't speak for a long moment. “No. No, we were not friends.”

 

Thor committed this to memory. There was something behind Loki's sombre tone. He would ask about it later.

 

It seemed that, after all, they would have that eternity they had promised at their wedding.

 

“What would you like to do now?” Thor asked.

 

The question was simple enough... on the surface. What would they do now? Like the envoy said, the business was concluded. The wrongs had been made right. But he and Loki... so much had gone wrong between them. Maybe they would never be right again.

 

Loki seemed to contemplate his query, his posture relaxing as he turned to Thor, leaning in towards him. It was done so carelessly that it made Thor wonder if Loki was even aware he was doing it.

 

“We never went for that ride,” Loki hinted.

 

Thor smiled, remembering the good times they'd had when he was teaching Loki to ride, as well as their plans to finally put the lessons to test elsewhere than simply in the proximity of the stables. He had to admit the idea of riding out of the city excited him too. They'd had more than enough “adventure” in the past days, but it was pleasant to hear that Loki wanted his company. “I would enjoy that very much, if you are sure you are up to it. You're still healing, after all. And, if memory serves, your horsemanship was not exactly...skillful.”

 

Loki elbowed him in the ribs.“It wasn't my fault I'd never been on a horse before,” he protested, albeit with a small smile. “Besides, I feel fine. I want- I'd like it if we went.”

 

“Then we shall go.”

* * *

 

Neither of them spoke as they walked towards the stables, but Thor could not help but wonder about what Loki and the envoy had said behind the closed doors. The closer they got to the stables, however, the more he began to believe that whatever they had talked about had little to do with him or their relationship. Loki did not shy away from making physical contact with Thor: his steps took him ever closer, their sleeves brushing against one another in a comforting rhythm and, when they entered the long wooden building, Loki gave him a brief smile when Thor put his hand on his shoulder to steer him toward a calm, beautiful mare that he wanted to saddle up for Loki..

 

“This is Gaefa, Saett's daughter,” Thor explained, grinning at Loki's soft 'oh' He petted her soft tan snout as Thor saddled the horse. Loki slipped his left foot into the stirrup and pushed off the ground with his right, just as Thor had taught him on their first trip to the stables.

 

For himself, Thor saddled Trygve, a large grey gelding - mild and friendly, if not a little dim - and then they were off, riding slowly along a paved pathway that led out of the city.

 

The road they took was a private one; they didn't need to worry about citizens going about their daily business as they travelled, winding around the busy streets – sometimes above, sometimes below – and twisting down to the deeper levels of the city, near the water, before leading up again to the higher overlooks. As they ventured farther from the city, soft grass took the place of limestone, and buildings became fewer and farther between.

 

The weather was warm, but not stifling, a soft breeze taking the edge off the sun's heat. Once they were away from the city, Thor led them, leisurely, through known paths until they came to an unenclosed forest, bright and welcoming, with narrow trails and clear, gently rippling pools. Over the centuries, it had become a favourite outing spot for Asgardians, royal and common alike, and they met several citizens strolling beneath the tall trees. Upon seeing Thor and Loki, they stopped and bowed as their horses approached.

 

Thor nodded politely, and then urged his horse to a trot, encouraging Loki to do the same. He wanted to get away, to have a bit of privacy with his husband. After everything they'd been through, they deserved that much.

 

He remembered Loki asking him about Asgard's wilds, and he wished they could be somewhere in the mountains instead, not a soul within a day's journey around. As it was, he used his knowledge of this forest to steer them away from the more-travelled spots and towards a little secret place that his mother had shown him as a small child long ago.

 

There was a small clearing, just enough for the two horses to graze and next to it brief slope, leading to a natural pond. Unlike the others in the preferred parts of the forest, the surface of this one was covered with water lilies and floating weeds. Not quite as kept, but still beautiful in its way.

 

Thor gestured vaguely towards the glade while they were still on horseback.“Shall we?”

 

Loki smiled and opened his mouth to reply, but yelped instead as Gaefa lowered her head to the ground and started sniffing at the grass. The movement propelled Loki forward; his fingers were firmly curled around the reins, but his arms didn't manage to hold back the forceful movement of the horse. He looked unbalanced and very discomfited , leaning back as though to avoid the steep slope that now made the front of the horse.

 

Thor chuckled briefly and dismounted Trygve quickly, leaving him free for the moment. He knew the faithful animal would not go anywhere.

 

“Here, don't worry. Fresh grass is apparently irresistible,” he told Loki and grabbed the side of the reins, steadying the mare as Loki caught himself on the front of the saddle and swung his leg to jump down. He landed steadily and Thor beamed at him before turning to tie both horses loosely to the trees, leaving them to graze and nose and sniff at each other.

 

Loki meanwhile explored the pond. When Thor was done, he approached him and placed his palms lightly on Loki's side, standing behind him. Loki leaned back, resting his head against Thor's chest.

 

“This is beautiful. All these smells and colours... and sounds,” Loki spoke slowly. There was a frog croaking somewhere and birdsong twittered throughout.

 

“We can stay as long as you like,” Thor offered, pleased that Loki approved of his choice. Loki laughed, loud and bright, and turned to face Thor. “Do not make these promises lightly, I might take you up on them.”

 

“I am simply glad you like it here.”

 

Loki nodded and stepped away, taking in the surroundings. Already familiar with the place, Thor took off his cape and spread it on the descending ground like a blanket, sitting down on it and leaving ample space for Loki to join him when he wished.

 

Despite the welcome seclusion of the pond and the clearing, there was still a sense of unrest in him. It seemed to grow as he watched his silent husband move slowly, with a natural grace that Thor could not help but admire, along the trees that skirted around the edge of the clearing.

 

The previous night, Thor had laid himself bare. Spoken of things that he'd taken care not to ponder about for centuries. Admitted his faults. And he knew, both through advice and experience, that the latter at least was a right choice, both for a king and a husband, but still...

 

Apparently satisfied with his investigation, Loki circled back to Thor. He eased himself down, sliding his hand across the cape and letting out a little hum of appreciation. The ground underneath them was soft and springy, and Loki stretched out on his back, smiling up as he closed his eyes against the sun that flickered through the leaves.

 

Watching him, Thor's mind suddenly seemed blissfully empty of all the worries that had been filling it just moments ago. Instead, a new resolve bloomed in his heart – a new goal – and he felt his pulse speed up with the mere thought.

 

Saying nothing, he leaned down and kissed Loki fully on the lips, unrestrained and demanding, though he did desire to still be gentle.

 

Loki's eyes snapped open for a second, but within moments they were closing again, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, and he was kissing back, sighing into Thor's mouth.

 

Thor explored, unashamed, the lips that were firm yet yielding beneath his own, the taste and the warmth of his husband. He covered Loki's body on his own, only holding himself up on the elbows, clumsily slipping his hands underneath Loki's head and thrusting his fingers into his hair, taking in how soft and thick it was.

 

Loki arched against him and when he did, Thor pushed back, letting them both have a teasing taste of their lengths pressed together through layers of clothing. Thor was in no rush; despite his growing need, he wanted more of what he was having right now: the slick, tempting intimacy of deep kissing, tracing and exploring every curve and quirk of Loki's lips, and toying with his tongue with his own.

 

Loki's hands were wrapped firmly about Thor's shoulders, tugging to bring him closer. When that did not work, he instead slipped them to Thor's hair and tugged harshly. A rumble of laughter that bordered on a growl rose in Thor's chest and he lowered his chest to Loki's smaller one, bringing one of his hands to Loki's hips, holding him still and close as he slowly ground down, breaking the kiss to better watch Loki's reaction.

 

It was well worth it. Loki's expression was one of surprised bliss: his eyes shut tight and mouth falling open, breathing wetly. Thor took advantage of it sealing his teeth lightly over Loki's full lower lip. The bite further inflamed Loki, and he surged up to fully claim Thor's mouth again, fighting – unsuccessfully – to take control of the kiss.

 

Something stirred within Thor, a restlessness that he realized he hadn't felt in a long time, and he let himself get lost in the overwhelming sensations, his blood pulsing with possessiveness.

 

No matter how it had come to be so, Loki was _his_ , and nothing would change that, not Amora, not Jotunheim, nothing.

 

Loki stilled beneath him.

 

“Thor,” he breathed.

 

The awed sound of his name on Loki's tongue made Thor shiver with barely contained energy and he closed his eyes, deeply inhaling the scent of Loki's hair behind his ear before tilting his head to lick a stripe up Loki's neck and fuse his mouth over the soft skin.

 

“Thor!”

 

The urgency in Loki's voice penetrated Thor's lust-addled brain and he jerked, backing away from Loki. Had he gone too far?

 

“Loki?”

 

But Loki did not seem hurt or even particularly scared. Instead, his eyes were wide with questioning wonder.

 

“Thor, is this... is this you?”

 

The question did not make any sense until he watched Loki's gaze move away from his own and look _up_. It was then that Thor realized he was no longer squinting against the sunshine – the glade had grown darker, and the birdsong and croaking of frogs had disappeared, leaving behind an almost dangerous silence. The most prominent sounds were Thor's pulse in his ears and the nervous stomping and whinnying of the horses.

 

Pulling back fully, Thor looked up at the sky. His rational mind finally began to catch up to what his instincts and, something even deeper, knew long before.

 

The sky was dark with heavy grey clouds, completely changing the sunny, summer day. Clouds of his own making.

 

“Loki, I- I am sorry,” he murmured, getting up to calm himself and send the undesirable weather away. A small hand was immediately at the crook of his arm, tugging at him.

 

“Thor, did you do this?”

 

“Yes. Unwittingly,” Thor grudgingly admitted, balling his hands in frustration. How could he have lost control like that? He'd had completely control over his abilities for centuries now.

 

“Ah, damn,” Loki breathed and he was on Thor again, clumsily wrapping one leg around Thor's thigh and rubbing against him as he tried to reach Thor's mouth for a kiss. “Do... more.”

 

Thor closed his eyes, mind clearing, and tilted his head down to allow Loki's kiss.

 

_Could he? Could he let enough of himself go to give Loki what he wanted?_

 

It would feel amazing, he was sure of that, but there was yet a twinge of doubt. In the end, he made a compromise.

 

“I will,” he murmured against Loki's cheek. “Soon. We will go to the mountains, in two, three days time at most. There is a house, nobody lives near. I will take you there and show you everything.”

 

Loki looked at him, face flushed and hair tousled. “Yes, I want that. But soon. Promise me we will not dally... husband.”

 

The image rose in Thor's mind, clear as day. The two of them alone – not a king and a prince or a man and a boy, but equal men having a taste of the wild. Focusing on nothing but each other.

 

Thor smiled. “I promise,” he said, the words easy on his tongue.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay fluff! I hope this was satisfactory for you guys. I envision one, maybe two more chapters and then an epilogue :) and thankfully I already have more than 2k words of the next chapter done, so the wait should not be nearly as long as it was now.
> 
> thorduna.tumblr.com
> 
> Comments always welcome, thank you.


	12. Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The absolute biggest thanks to Mona for beta-reading and moral support.

Loki nodded his greeting to the gate-keeper Heimdall. He'd always been slightly unnerved by the large man's stoic gaze, but this time, his piercing golden eyes seemed softer as he in the sight of the two of them – he and Thor - dressed in plain cloaks, with large bags slung over their shoulders.

 

He surprised Loki by stepping down from his post and coming to clasp hands with Thor. Loki had never seen Heimdall show any sort of discernible emotion; he'd always been perfectly dignified, if not detached , but now he was giving Thor a small smile and the two of them bowed their heads together like old friends.

 

Loki supposed they would be. Before Thor had become king, Heimdall had long been in service of Thor's father, Odin. Tasked with the protection of the realm and the royal family, he must have watched Thor grow up.. Loki tried to imagine Thor as a young boy, recalling the many stories Frigga has told him, and those that Thor had shared on his own, and a wry, little smile unwittingly appeared on his lips.. Loki wondered what their relationship might have been had they been closer in age, or if they'd had the chance to get to know one another before they got married. Their personalities were different in many ways, but perhaps with more time and more spontaneity, they might have forged a real closeness.

 

Thor stepped back as Heimdall returned to his post to ready the Bifrost, and Loki shook off those thoughts. . There was no sense in pondering these things. They had what they had.

 

And it was not all bad, not nearly. Thor and he were about to embark on a _real_ vacation, and Loki was determined to squeeze as much happiness as he could from it.

 

In the days since Thor and his little excursion into the forest, Loki had been cautious. He'd loved their ride, and the kisses they'd exchanged, but back at the palace, he'd distanced himself again. He was still angry with Thor and told him so, making it clear that he had not forgotten that he'd been treated like a spy and held against his will. Loki couldn't disregard all of that simply because Thor had summoned storm clouds to cover half of the realm as they shared some kisses...unrestricted, amazing, _breath-taking_ kisses.

 

That resolve was hard to keep in the face of the bubbling excitement Loki felt as they set out from the palace with plans to spend almost two weeks _alone_ at a royal (but, according to Thor, small and cosy) house in the mountains. Loki had been surprised to learn that they would travel via the Bifrost. Thor had been vague about the exact location, but Loki assumed it was within the limits of Asgard, and he would have thought they'd travel by horse or carriage, or perhaps even fly with Thor's hammer. He'd asked Thor, who assured that, while they wouldn't be crossing realms, the journey was too long to be done comfortably on horseback.

 

They stepped towards the mouth of Bifrost together, listening to the heavy thrum of the machinery creaking as Heimdall activated it with his sword. A shiver of excitement ran through Loki, and then they were off, hurling through space. The journey was short, and while it had not been as jarring as his first venture between realms Loki still had to balance himself as he landed, gasping for breath.

 

The first thing he noticed was the crisp air around him, saturated with clean, fresh scents of evergreens, dirt and limestone. For all of its pleasantness, however, it offered no clues as to exactly where they were. By all accounts, it was a merely a clearing, lined with smaller rocks and tall trees.

 

“We are perhaps a fifteen minute walk from the house,” Thor said, pointing to a spot higher on the mountain. “But this is the safest place to land. I hope you are up for a bit of a hike.” With that, he hoisted his bag higher on his strong shoulder and began to walk.

 

Loki caught the hint of smugness in Thor's voice and narrowed his eyes, falling into step beside him.

 

“So, what precisely is this place?” Loki asked.

 

“A place of refuge, I suppose.”

 

“For your family?”

 

“Something like that,” Thor answered, beaming.

 

“Come, Thor.” Loki rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

 

Thor sighed and glanced at Loki as they steadily trudged through the forest. His expression softened into one of fondness. “I built it with my father one spring, as secretly as we were able. Then we spent the summer here, with my mother of course, who was supposed to be surprised.”

 

Loki laughed. Of course Frigga would have known the whole time; Thor's mother was unnervingly perceptive. “I cannot imagine you keeping a secret from your mother for a whole season.”

 

“I know,” Thor agreed. “It is a place of... well, there were happy times here. I hope there shall be more.”

 

“So do I,” Loki admitted. Then something occurred to him. Thor was a fearsome warrior, able to destroy almost anything that lay in his path. But could he build as soundly? “When you say you built it...”

 

“You have no reason to worry,” Thor assured him, chuckling. “It is really quite splendid. Father and I did a lot of the rough work, setting the foundations and the walls, but as soon as we showed it to Mother, she took care of the rest, adding her own flair and changing things as she saw fit. And this was centuries ago – it has been redesigned and redecorated several times since.”

 

“That does not bother you? Doesn't it erase the memories you've made?”

 

“Not at all. Memories do not lie in the furniture or in the quality of the roofing. It is the idea of the place itself, the feelings it evokes, and the... well- we are almost there.”

 

Thor's story warmed his heart and left Loki eager to set eyes on the place for himself.. There was a nagging of something else, however, that made the feeling bittersweet. A kind of sadness came over him. The closeness, the fond memories that Thor shared with his family, away from the responsibility of royal duty was something Loki had not known in his own life. He did have close moments with his parents, yes, but to leave the palace for days would have been impossible. Jotunheim was an unstable realm... to entrust it to others, even for a short time, had been unthinkable.

 

Mercifully, his line of thought was cut short as they approached the tree line, revealing the house before them. The house was an elaborate wooden cabin with foundations of cut limestone. It sprawled doubly as wide as it was long, with two stories and a high roof.

 

More impressive than the cabin itself was _where_ it had been built. It had been set upon a wide overhang that jutted out over...everything – over the thick patches of forests and the vast mountains that lay out as far as the eye could see, and Thor and Loki were standing _above_ it all. The landscape had been painted in hues of grey, black, green, blue and white; the picture it made was stunning and Loki stopped, awestruck.

 

“Are we still on Asgard?” Loki asked, his mouth working faster then his mind.

 

“Indeed. We are at the very heart of it.”

 

Loki tore his eyes from the sight and looked at Thor. He was so _proud_ of his kingdom, it was obvious from the beatific smile that lit his features. He could not fault his husband for that – Asgard was so sprawling, so grand, that one could not help but admire it. At the same time, it left a sour taste at the back of Loki's throat: he'd experienced – first hand – the lengths Thor would go to protect his beautiful realm. Loki swallowed back his bitterness. Thor had put a great deal of thought and planning into all of this, that much was clear, and Loki refused to let anything spoil his enjoyment of this view. When they turned to approach the cabin, Loki saw that the facing the overhang was almost entirely walled by glass in the middle section, giving an unhindered view of the horizon. Loki could not wait to see the interior of it and imagined how it might feel to be warm and curled up inside, and still be able to look out to such a sight. As they stepped closer, Loki noted that the cabin was not _quite_ at the edge of the cliff – rather there was a tidy stone patio, furnished with a wooden table and chairs. The furniture looked freshly polished and virtually untouched by wind and rain and snow.

 

“That does not appear like it stays here all year long,” he said.

 

“It doesn't.” Thor shrugged lightly. “I've had the cabin prepared for us. After all, we each carry only the bare necessities.”

 

“Oh, so does that mean you've been diligently preparing for our time here?” Loki teased.

 

“Of course I have,” Thor replied, disarming Loki almost immediately.

 

Thor _had_ been rather busy in the past few days, now that Loki thought about it. The... _crisis_ had caused many problems. It also prevented Thor from attending to his less-exciting daily duties as king, all of which had to be rectified. But between all that work, Thor had done his best to make sure their vacation would be a comfortable one. Loki could appreciate that.

 

He liked being comfortable.

 

Loki turned his gaze to Thor, and any lingering bitter thoughts he had were forgotten . His husband's cheeks had grown a bit red with the crisp, cold air. His hair was slightly ruffled from the light breeze, framing his face in soft waves; the tiny braids he wore had begun to untwist where the bands did not hold. They had both worn simpler clothing for the trip; Thor had forgone his royal armour and bright red cape, opting instead to don a soft, black leather cloak that draped around him. Loki rather enjoyed the look. Somehow, it made him shine even brighter - his warm-toned skin and golden hair contrasted with the plain, dark clothes.

 

“Shall we go inside?” Thor asked.

 

“Yes, please,” Loki said in a low, but excited tone.

 

Whatever expectations Loki had about the interior of the cabin, the reality of it exceeded them. He'd become well-acquainted with the Aesir's love of grandeur, and the cabin was an extension of that; it had the air or luxury and comfort that he'd come to expect from Asgard...only decked out in strong, sturdy wood instead of golden walls and polished sandstone.

 

The heart of the cabin was a huge living space with a high ceiling that stretched to the roof, framed by a narrow balcony on the upper floor. There was a large stone fireplace embedded in one of the cabin walls, and plush armchairs and sofas covered in soft-looking leather. He looked past the furnishings to see that he was on the other side of the glass wall and, as Loki expected, the view from this room outside was unreal. In truth, he could have stayed there for hours, but when Thor offered to show him the second floor, Loki tore himself away. He couldn't help being curious about what was up there. Especially the bedroom.

 

He was not disappointed. The room that Thor showed him was smaller than their bedroom back at the palace, but it was charming, with a low ceiling and a sense of warmth throughout. The bed was low and large, with drapes drawn half shut around it.

 

“Look up,” Thor prompted with a smile.

 

When Loki did, his mouth gaped at what he saw. There was a window set in the ceiling above the bed, and Loki imagined it would be lined perfectly by the canopy. The window might not allow for late mornings, but the sight of stars at night would surely make up for that.

 

When the whole tour was finished, Loki had decided that it was the most quaint, loveliest place in the universe.

 

* * *

 

Later, Thor offered to cook dinner for them, and he surprised Loki with his culinary skill as he watched his husband prepare the ingredients that he'd pulled from what appeared to be a well-stocked pantry. It seemed Thor really had put a lot of thought into this vacation. The placement of the kitchen was unusual in Loki's eyes, way too close to the living arrangements on the ground floor, even for a house that could not match the size of a palace.

 

“My parents cooked together here,” Thor explained as he worked. “My mother used to say that nothing teaches a couple to cooperate with one another like cooking.”

 

“I will take your word for it,” said Loki, shrugging. He watched as Thor picked up a leafy green plant with a fat bulb and dropped it into a pot of boiling water. He sniffed at the sweet, pungent odour that came off the water and made a face. Loki had never seen anything like it; he could only hope that it some kind of vegetable. Once the water came to a rolling boil again, Thor began carving up some kind of meat. That, at least, was familiar – without the ability to cultivate vegetation, meat was the most crucial source of nutrition on Jotunheim. He laid the strips of meat in a hot iron pan and let them sizzle for a moment before turning them over.

 

Thor must have caught his disinterested look. “Vegetables are good for you, you know,” he said with a smile. “But if you truly don't like them, there's a selection of chocolate desserts in the pantry. I'm afraid those have been prepared for us, as my skill doesn't reach as far as confections.”

 

Loki could feel himself blush and he stepped away from the stove, turning to browse the room and its utensils.

 

“You've done enough, and I'm sure the meal will be nice. I suppose I am still getting used to Asgardian cuisine.”

 

Thor smiled at him. “I certainly hope my efforts will not discourage you from trying more.”

 

“And if it does, there is always the chocolate,” Loki shrugged, biting his lip to keep from smiling.

 

“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence,” Thor laughed, his eyes twinkling with mirth. He met Loki's gaze briefly before returning his attention to the pots in front of him.

 

Loki used the opportunity to take in his husband again. Thor was handsome – there was no question about that, but it was times like these, with unguarded happiness illuminating his features, that the awareness hit Loki fully.

 

In his time in Asgard, Loki had noticed that almost all the people he'd were fairhaired and strong-bodied, but Thor was remarkable among them. The Aesir form that Loki wore – small and pale with black hair – was rather uncommon, and he wondered what Thor truly thought of him. Did he actually take pleasure in watching Loki the same way Loki took pleasure in the sight of Thor?

 

Thor broke his pondering with a quietly posed question. “May I ask you something?”

 

“What is it?”

 

“The envoy, Idi. I could not help but notice you seemed... affected by his presence.”

 

Loki startled, discomforted. His first instinct was to play it off as a joke. “My my, Thor, are you jealous?”

 

Thor looked up quickly and Loki glimpsed a second of hurt before Thor schooled his expression. “That...was not what I meant. I just noticed...”

 

He trailer off and Loki inwardly scolded himself for being flippant about it. Still, he was not entirely sure he wanted to explain the truth to Thor. After a moment, he decided he should. Thor was trying – shouldn't he?

 

“Sorry,” Loki said. “It's not that. I told you we knew each other...”

 

“Yes,” Thor nodded, prompting him on with a small smile, thought Loki could see tightness around his eyes.

 

“Idi is younger than me...I was surprised to see him with such an important position in Jotunheim's court. I have no doubt my parents were very displeased and upset by the news that Lady Sif brought to them and I... I suppose it was odd to be confronted with someone I knew in my youth in such a serious situation.”

 

He found he had little desire to speak clearly about what really upset him about seeing Idi. It _was_ the crux of it, seeing someone like that given this important task. He just did not want to explain it fully.

 

“You feel he was not experienced enough to handle the complications of diplomacy in such situation?” Thor asked.

 

“No,” Loki laughed. He sounded bitter to his own ears.. “He is skilled enough. He has all the education and experience one might wish for in such a vocation.”

 

“Ah,” Thor said simply, stirring whatever it was in that large pot..

 

Loki pursed his lips. He thought Thor would press the matter further, but that didn't seem to be the case. He should have been satisfied; he did not want Thor to really chase the truth... Did he?

 

“Almost done. Shall we eat outside?”

 

Loki glanced out of the huge windows that made up the southwest wall of the living room. The sun was low, pleasantly so.

 

“I suppose,” Loki answered, mildly annoyed.

 

Thor piled the vegetables and meat onto two plates, then uncorked two bottles of wine. He asked Loki to carry them out to the table while he brought the food. Once the plates were placed, Thor went back inside, emerging with goblets and silverware. He seemed so at ease doing all the tasks that usually fell to the servants. Loki found it rather refreshing.

 

“You seem very good at this,” Loki told him as he sat down. The descending sun warmed his back, and he looked down at the meal in front of him. For all his scepticism, Loki had to admit that it looked delicious. He reached for his goblet, brimming with fragrant red wine, and raised it.

 

They toasted to good health and Loki took a sip, marvelling at the sparkly, yet heavy taste. It didn't strike Loki as a common table wine.

 

“What do you mean – setting a table and taking care of the food?”

 

“Mhmm,” Loki hummed, his mouth already full of a bite of the tender meat that Thor had fried.

 

“My mother would never let me grow so spoiled that I could not take care of myself without the help of servants,” Thor explained with a chuckle. “And besides, I've gotten enough experience on hunts and expeditions with my friends.”

 

Loki smiled immediately. He could easily see Frigga scolding her son for being lazy and then making sure he understood why being self-sufficient was so important. Then, he imagined Thor on his adventures with his friends – enjoying the sun and the wind whipping through their hair, the freedom and camaraderie they must have felt – and his smile faded.

 

“Loki,” Thor said with a hint of exasperation, “What is it? You've been... distant ever since I started dinner.”

 

Loki could deny that anything was wrong. He could twist Thor's words and accuse him of being too forward, for assuming too much.

 

“Before I came to Asgard, I lived a very sheltered existence – there was little I could experience on my own,” he said finally. Loki picked up his goblet, and swirled the wine inside. “Take wine as an example. When we met, I was more than old enough to be allowed to have a full goblet of my own, yet my parents wouldn't allow it. At most, they would only let me have a small taste.”

 

Thor pushed around the steaming food on his plate for a while. “Is this... is this connected to what you told me about Idi? Were you unhappy that someone younger than yourself was already trusted with such a task and you never were?”

 

Loki stared blankly at his own meal and bit his lip. Thor could be unnervingly perceptive, and the angry child inside him wanted to yell and fight, to refuse to admit the truth of Thor's words. It hurt his pride to hear the words aloud.

 

“It is,” he said finally, deciding to open up to Thor. “People have towered over me my entire life, Thor. I hate it.”

 

Loki stopped there, feeling like he'd said too much. Thor though, looked at him warmly and lifted his goblet. Loki mirrored the gesture and took a deep breath. He looked out to the stunning view that surrounded them, appreciating the calmness of the still air and dissolving sunset.

 

“I can only imagine how difficult that must have been for you at home.”

 

“It was difficult in _Jotunheim_ ,” Loki replied without thinking.

 

Thor's gaped at his husband for a brief moment, and then tried (and failed, in Loki's opinion) to not look overly pleased by the slip. Loki left him to it.

 

They continued their meal in a charged, but not unpleasant, silence. Loki's plate was already half-empty when he realized he was barely tasting the food, which was a shame: it was really rather good, and he told Thor as much, earning a smile from his husband.

 

“Would you like some dessert?” Thor asked when they were finished.

 

“Not yet.” Loki shook his head and patted his stomach. “Perhaps we could take a walk first?”

 

Thor laughed at that and rose from his seat, coming around the table to pull the chair for Loki. “I think that's wise.”

 

“It would be a shame to waste such a sunset by being overindulgent.”

 

Loki was talking about food, but at that very moment Thor leaned towards him and Loki heard him chuckle. He shivered as the sound, along with a gust of breath, travelled down the back of his neck. The moment was over within seconds – Thor stepped back and Loki rose from the chair smoothly – but it set off a heat deep within him that couldn't be doused.

 

And, if Norns be good, maybe finally, _finally,_ he wouldn't have to.

 

They wandered along the edge of the cliff and Loki was once more awed by the stunning sight. The last rays of sun trickled across the mountain tops. There was a hint of mist dipping in the valleys, illuminated by the soft warm glow.

 

They stopped and watched without speaking as the light slowly withdrew and the orb slid below the horizon. Loki took a deep, cleansing breath. The peace and beauty of the moment was unparalleled and for a moment, his own state of mind matched it, calmed by its wonder.

 

Moments after the sunset was over, something in the air shifted and a chill came over his skin. At first, Loki thought perhaps it was merely the absence of the sun luring out the untamed nature of the wilderness that surrounded them. He inhaled and suddenly, his mouth tasted of ozone and rain; reflexively, he whipped around to find Thor.. His eyes widened at the sight of him...

 

Thor stood two paces behind, grinning, his eyes dark with something Loki couldn't put a name to – he only knew that his heart was beating frantically. Loki stood silent, watching as Thor's black cloak began to flutter around his body despite the stillness of the air. A distant, crackling sound whipped through the air, startling him and he finally understood – or so he hoped – what was happening. With effort, he tore his gaze away from Thor and looked up.

 

He'd never seen anything like it – the sky was purpling, filling with thick, dark clouds at a pace too quick to be natural. It was breath-taking. The clouds soon blotted out what little light was still in the sky. When Loki looked back to Thor, he realized the source of the snapping sound he'd heard earlier -- tendrils of lightning were curling around Thor's limbs, bathing them both in pale, bluish light. The crackles that ran along Thor's skin were drowned out by a deep rumbling overhead.

 

Loki was at once struck by great need to touch Thor; he wanted to throw himself at his husband and let Thor's lightning take over his body as well. Then and there, though, it didn't seem like Thor was safe to touch. As badly as he wanted to, Loki feared he would be burned if he dared lay his hands on that blue sparking skin. It frightened him, how sudden and all-consuming that desire had come over him.

 

They stared at each other, locked in the moment even as wind began to rise around them. Thor's eyes were not dark anymore – instead they were glowing, shining with the same lightning that snaked around his body. His grin broadened, and Loki had to choke down a noise that was threatening to escape him. Loki knew, _knew_ that this would happen. He'd seen Thor summon the storm once, during the battle with Amora, but then, he was a mere witness to its intensity. Now, he was at the centre of it. The ground beneath them rumbled and the sky was _slashed open_ by a brightness so harsh and sudden that Loki screamed.

 

And then Thor was right there, grasping him by the shoulders, still smiling as his hands moved down Loki's arms, soothing him. The wind tore at them, and amidst the utter chaos that threatened to wreck the sky, rain began to fall around them. The clouds above were so dark and thick they were almost black, and so heavy that Loki felt as though he could reach out and touch them.

 

Steady bolts of lightning speared through those pendulous clouds, sending flashes throughout the sky. The taste of ozone was still heavy in Loki's mouth and he swallowed weakly, staring up into his husband's face. He was still Thor, still beautiful, but a godly power was holding him in place now, baring its teeth for those who dared to face it.

 

Loki dared. He felt as though he was toeing the edge of a precipice, and he realized he couldn't wait to throw himself over the edge.

 

“Take me up,” he yelled over the wind with a grin that matched Thor's own. Loki reached up and pressed his palms to Thor's face, yelping a little when pricks of lightning bit at his fingers.

 

He didn't need to ask twice.

 

“Step on my feet,” Thor shouted in reply. He let go of one of Loki's arms and summoned Mjolnir, the impact of the catch rippling through them both.

 

Loki did as he was bid, placing each foot gingerly on top of Thor's boots. Thor wrapped one firm arm around Loki's waist and brought him close, his hold strong and sure, then raised the other arm, hoisting his hammer high above their heads and hurling it until it began to hum and glow of its own accord.

 

That was all the warning Loki had before they shot up toward the sky, his stomach plummeting with their ascent. His startled screams became whoops of excitement as they flew; Thor soon joined him, laughing so deeply that Loki could feel it vibrating in Thor's chest over the thunder booming around them and the rush of blood in Loki's own ears.

 

Loki had little sense of direction, or time for that matter, and couldn't tell where they were going, not that it mattered. With his arms around Thor's neck and, in return, Thor's arm holding him in place, Loki found that he couldn't give a care to his destination as long as he was with Thor. The same powerful scent of ozone clung to Thor's skin, and Loki breathed it in when he could convince his lungs to expand again.

 

Loki felt as though his bones were coming loose at the joints. He couldn't move – he could only hang in Thor's strong grasp and wait it out...not that he minded, really. Loki didn't want this moment to pass. Ever. He tried to put words to what he felt – peace and chaos, their dichotomous forces merging together as one.

 

Just as his body had begun to adjust to the jarring sensation of flight, they...stopped? Loki trembled, both frightened and exhilarated by the feeling of weightlessness as they hovered in the air. Mjolnir was still spinning and humming above and a cyclone of wind moved around them. Fighting against his own apprehension, Loki tightened his hold around Thor's neck and chanced a look down to find that they were in the eye of a hurricane, held up by the force of its swirling currents.

 

“Norns,” he whispered. Thor laughed again, and Loki blushed.

 

“It is impressive, isn't it?” Thor asked.

 

Loki couldn't find the will to be contrary, not now. He nodded, then tipped his head back to stare up at the maelstrom above them. The hues of dark grey and blue and purple flashed at speed, interrupted only by the ever-present flashes of lightning.

 

When Loki turned his gaze back to Thor, he found the same storm mingling in his eyes. He saw flashes of his smiling husband in one moment, and a god in the next, merging together until his mind had difficulty distinguishing between the two. Thunder crashed on, growing impossibly louder each minute until it was only a deafening, indiscernible rumble. The tempest in Thor's eyes flickered and then they went white once more before he closed them and let his head tilt back.

After some moments, the lightning and thunder receded, and Thor straightened and looked down at Loki. His eyes had shifted back to normal, though his pupils were blown wide, nearly eclipsing the bright blue. A sharp smirk still played on his lips.

 

With a low growl, he pulled Loki tighter against himself and kissed him hard, his lips tasting of tasting rainwater and ozone. Small jolts of pain pricked at the thin,sensitive skin of Loki's lips; the storm may have calmed, but Thor was still pulsing with energized power. When they finally broke apart, Loki ran his fingers over his lips, relishing the way the skin tingled.

 

Before, he'd been too stunned by the godly display, by teetering on the verge of being torn apart by the raw elements surrounding them – all at Thor's sheer force of will. But now that the intensity of the storm had passed, he realized he was hopelessly hard, his skin tight with need.

 

Abruptly, Thor took them higher into the air. Before, they were spared the full force of the storm because Thor had conjured it around them. Out in the open, though, they were drenched in the downpour produced by the heavy clouds. The wind whipped through his rain-soaked clothes, and Loki shivered. He looked away from Thor and grinned before closing his eyes; with a bit of concentration, he was able to shake off the chill with a spell, leaving him feeling fresh and cool.

 

“You could have ruined my clothes, husband,” Loki teased.

 

Thor looked down at him. “Perhaps that was my plan all along, _husband._ ” He gave Loki a wide smile (which, while gratifying, wasn't particularly surprising), and set his sight ahead before whisking them off again. Loki could see no set path, but Thor's sense of direction was straight and true.

 

They didn't land back at the cabin. Instead, Thor took them to an edge of another mountain where there were no less, but no more than four or five paces of smooth plateau and on each side nothing but a huge drop down.

 

Thor set him down, but didn't let go, eyes burning with clear intent and Loki felt the urge to laugh at how far they'd come. From Thor keeping to the far side of their soft bed, from his worried, lingering looks and chaste touches, from his duty and honour and responsibility – to _now,_ to this want and need that Loki had craved for so long...

 

They kissed again, right there at the impossible height – hands grasping at clothes and mouths tearing at each other. There was little coordination of their movements; more than once, Loki felt the sharp points of Thor's canines or his own teeth sink into the meat of Thor's lips, but none of that was enough to make them stop. Loki was still riding high from the rush of the flight and the storm, making it hard for him to imagine anything more complicated than base, greedy rutting. He palmed Thor through his trousers, fearless of the action or what it might provoke. In response, Thor grabbed Loki's ass with both hands and squeezed, groaning so thickly that it rumbled over the lingering thunder.

 

And then Loki was on the ground, blinking in shock. He barely felt Thor move, but there he was, flat on his back on the rock, arching into Thor with a silent moan. He sucked in a shaky breath, his heart pounding when Thor bore down on him, leaning his head down to press wet, warm kisses over his neck.

 

“Yes,” Loki hissed as Thor settled himself between his spread thighs, pushing their hips together. His high-strung body _sang_ underneath Thor and, even in their haste, managed to find a primitive rhythm: raw, harsh, and quick.

 

Loki tipped his head back to the rain and let it fall, soothing and balmy over his cheeks. Thor's hand tangled into his hair, and he brought his face back to his for another kiss, deep and desperate. Loki keened into it and pushed his hips up, breathless and aching with the need to come.

 

Then Thor shifted _just so,_ and the top of his thigh – muscles corded and taut – dragged up and down the entire length of Loki's cock. Loki's body arched hard, as if Thor's lightning had struck through his core, and he came with a shout.

 

Thor made a choked, desperate sound against Loki's cheek and drew back just a little bit, despite Loki's whimper of protest. His whimper soon quieted, though, as he watched – with hazy amazement - as as Thor shoved a hand down his own pants and visibly worked himself over. On impulse, Loki struggled to push his own smaller hand alongside Thor's and succeeded, the tips of his fingers brushing the hot, smooth skin of Thor's cock and stuttering across Thor's own tightly wrapped fingers. That was all he could manage before Thor slumped over Loki, a long, low moan passing his swollen lips.

 

They disentangled themselves from the awkward bends and angles of their limbs and sprawled out on the hard, wet surface of the mountain, breathing in deep lungfuls of the air .

 

Loki's eyelashes were heavy with more than just rainwater. Even as a weariness began to slip over him, he could still feel the hum of Thor's energy running through his body, and he know there would be no sleeping any time soon. Loki turned his head to his side to find Thor already watching him, looking blissful and carefree, and his heart tightened with something he'd not felt before.

 

Could this be what happiness felt like?

 

Thor shuffled closer to Loki and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I know you are probably warm enough,” he chuckled into Loki's ear. “But do you think I could persuade you to join me by the fireplace?”

 

Thor's sultry, promising tone was enough to make Loki's cock stir with interest.

 

“Why, what do you propose we do there?” he teased back, despite the way his heart hammered in his chest. “Do you want to ravish me on the pelt of some poor furry beast?”

 

 _Please don't say no, Thor._ Loki could not bear it now - not after the storm Thor brought for him... not after what they'd just done..

 

Thor laughed. “That,” he purred, nipping at the tip of Loki's ear, “is precisely what I had in mind.”

 

_Oh Norns. Oh yes._

 

Loki threw one last look upwards at the dark, spinning sky, - his eyes stinging with the falling rain.

 

“Then let's fly.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop there we go, happy times. Thanks for reading! There should be one more at least, I won't short you on the porn if that's what you guys are after. 
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts! Comments are a lifeline.
> 
> Amazing art by [boltplumart](http://boltplumart.tumblr.com).


	13. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well.
> 
> Here we are.
> 
> A million thanks to [Mona](http://sexualthorientation.tumblr.com/) for making this readable and being incredibly supportive. 
> 
> Also, if you haven't seen it yet, here's art illustrating this fic:
> 
> [Thor and Loki around the time of their wedding](http://boltplumart.tumblr.com/post/97633517759/flat-color-commission-for-diana-of-her-wonderful) and [Thor and Loki during their flight through the storm](http://boltplumart.tumblr.com/post/118534965928/flat-color-commission-for-diana-from-her-fic), both by [Allie](http://boltplumart.tumblr.com/) and then a [lovely moment between Thor and Loki](http://monkey-hands.tumblr.com/post/119550512013/not-really-good-at-coloring-or-details-sorry) by [Angeline Farewell](http://monkey-hands.tumblr.com/).

Thor's pulse was pounding in his ears and his face almost hurt from grinning. As they flew back to the house, Thor pretended to misjudge his landing at the edge of the cliff and let them both drop freely a few meters down, releasing and then, almost immediately, resuming his grip around Loki's waist. Loki shrieked, then let out a tinkling, high-pitched laugh as he realized what Thor had done.

 

When they entered the cabin, the fireplace was already lit, the soothing sounds of wood crackling and popping carried through the room. The warmth of the cabin was certainly welcome after the torrent of elements they'd been through, but Thor paused. He hadn't lit it before they'd ventured outside. “When did...?”

 

Loki grinned up at him and raised his hand, twiddling his long fingers. A single small, bright orange flame flickered to life and danced along his fingertips. “I thought a fire might be nice.”

 

“And you were right,” Thor told him, taking off his soaked tunic and chucking it to the floor carelessly before doing the same with Loki's.

 

The look Loki gave him then made Thor's blood run hot. Loki didn't appear to be afraid; his wide eyes watched Thor with eagerness and, perhaps, uncertainty, but certainly not fear – which was reassuring. He needed to know that Loki wanted this as badly as he. Thor wanted to properly – _finally_ \- appreciate his husband's nakedness – his hands skimmed the waistline of Loki's leggings before tugging at them wordlessly as he tried to back him through the living area towards the roaring hearth. It was awkward and clumsy and and Loki huffed a laugh, swatting Thor's hands away and began undressing himself.

 

“Oh, don't just stare,” he chided when he caught Thor's gaze roaming over him appreciatively. “Take those off.”

 

“Perhaps I enjoy staring at you,” Thor said with a smirk and began unlacing his own trousers. “But... as you wish.”

 

Loki's hands were on him soon after, light and shaking as they stroked his stomach, all while Thor struggled with kicking off his soggy boots.

 

Now that Thor had broken through his misgivings about having an intimate relationship with Loki, the desires he had been fighting for so long hit him all at once, and he barely knew where – or how – to begin. The intensity of his need was almost frightening, but he was bolstered by the raw memory of both the storm he'd conjured and Loki's powerful reaction to it. He would not back down and he would not back off. At last, he was free of the binds he hadn't noticed that had been coiling up and around him over his years of kingship, separating him from his very self.

 

The bloody _chair._ Once upon a time, the throne of Asgard had been that which he'd coveted most, but along the way, it had become another heavy weight for the God of Thunder to bear. Loki – young, spirited, impertinent Loki – had somehow, single-handedly, shown Thor the stasis he hadn't realized he'd been stuck in. It occurred to him, suddenly, that it would be quite interesting to see what kind of god Loki would grow up to be.

 

Thor was finally undressed, his boots and trousers left without care on the floor, and he and Loki stood together, naked, in front of the blazing fire.. The flames painted a warm tone on Loki's pale skin and Thor was _hungry_ at the sight of his slim frame and long, supple limbs. Their tumble at the mountain hadn't taken the edge off, it had amplified his desire

 

He grabbed Loki and swept him down onto the rug, settling on top of him and taking care to keep his weight on his elbows.

 

“Are you going to fuck me?” Loki asked, sounding breathless.

 

Thor traced his face with a finger, stopping to rub his thumb over Loki's lower lip. “Do you want me to?”

 

“Yes,” he replied immediately, then paused to give a quick kiss to the pad of Thor's thumb. “But you know I've not-”

 

“Don't worry,” Thor assured him, smiling. “We can go slow.”

 

Loki squirmed under him. “Ah, I'm not quite sure that _slow_ is what I want. But you need to... lead, I guess.” He put on the most adorable pout and Thor chuckled.

 

“Would you like me to show you how to do it?”

 

“Do what?” Loki challenged with a smirk of his own. _Of course this little troublemaker would like dirty talk._

 

“Take a cock.”

 

Loki looked shocked and he quickly glanced down between Thor and himself. “You mean me- you...?”

 

“Why not?” Thor teased.

 

“And...you enjoy it?”

 

“I do. There have not been many occasions when the opportunity presented itself, but yes. I take it by your reaction that you're surprised?”

 

Loki looked at him dubiously and nodded. “Quite honestly, it did not even occur to me. I was focused on... ah, taking _your_ cock, as you put it.”

 

“Ask and you shall receive.”

 

“Oh Norns,” Loki sighed, tilting his head toward the high ceiling and laughing as Thor leaned down and pressed a line of kisses on Loki's throat. “I fear I've woken a beast.”

 

Thor pulled back, falling serious for a moment. “That is more true than you know.”

 

They shared a long look until Loki nodded with a pleased expression on his face and weaved his fingers into Thor's hair, tugging him down for a kiss.

 

“You remember the tournament?” Loki whispered against Thor's cheek when they parted, both breathless.

 

“Mhmm,” Thor confirmed, bending down to nip at Loki's shoulder.

 

“I was... scared of you,” Loki panted, “and it was the most exciting feeling I've ever known. And then in the forest, when you fought that-that _witch_...it was there again, only much, much stronger. It was exhilarating.”

 

A flash of pure thrill went through Thor at Loki's words and he returned his husband's earlier gesture, catching the still-damp strands of Loki's hair in his fingers and _pulling_ with just an edge of force.

 

“You are an incorrigible minx,” he growled at Loki, then softened. “I will not hurt you, though, not ever. But, should you wish it of me, I could come very close....”

 

Thor showed Loki precisely what he meant by catching his lips in another kiss, demanding his way into his mouth. Just before he withdrew to turn his attention to other inviting parts, he teased at the plump inside of Loki's lower lip with his teeth, making him yelp.

 

“That sounds fair,” Loki laughed breathlessly and raked his surprisingly sharp nails down Thor's back before taking a grab of his buttocks and squeezing with considerable force. Thor bucked, driving his hips against Loki's. The lengths of their cocks pressed together as a result; it was no surprise, certainly not to Thor, how hard they both were.

 

“Do you want to stay here or go upstairs to bed?” Thor asked, pulling back as far as Loki's steel grip on his ass allowed.

 

“I like it here. It's nice,” Loki said, letting go of Thor to stretch, arching and flexing prettily under Thor's gaze.

 

“Let me get some oil,” Thor told Loki with a parting peck on the cheek and quickly went to search for a suitable bottle in the bathroom.

 

He stopped short when he returned. His cock bobbed, jutting out in an angle – if he'd cared, he probably would have thought it looked ridiculous. But he didn't care. The view that greeted him was all that mattered.

 

Loki had rolled onto his stomach, his knees were bent and his feet were casually waving lazy swirls in the air. His back was ever so slightly arched. “Like this?” he asked, almost demurely, and pushed his ass slightly upwards to demonstrate his words. The little tease.

 

“Norns damned, Loki,” Thor groaned, rushing towards the animal pelt laid out on the floor and dropping to his knees next to him. He wasted no time bending and pressing his lips to the end of Loki's spine, nosing at the tops of the pert globes of Loki's backside.

 

Loki's breath audibly hitched, and when he next spoke, the flirty lilt to his voice was gone.. “Thor, would you...I mean is it-ah- customary to...?” He trailed off.

 

Thor smiled fondly. He was so _shy_ , his husband. Judging by the scene he'd walked in on, though, he imagined the dirty mouth and mind Loki would surely prove to have in time.

 

“What – do you want me to put something,” he parted Loki's buttocks gently with one hand, “in here?”

 

“Yes,” Loki gasped.

 

“My fingers?”

 

“Later.”

 

“My cock?”

 

“ _Later_.”

 

“Oh my,” Thor said, as though scandalized. “I see.” It was a surprising request, but certainly not a displeasing one. Perhaps he wouldn't have to wait that long for Loki to embrace the naughtier part of his nature, after all. He bit at Loki's cheek playfully and then shifted around him, barely avoiding getting hit in the head with one over-excited ankle. He settled himself on his stomach in between Loki's thighs and nuzzled the curve of his ass with his nose and lips until Loki complained about the scratch of his beard.

 

Thor ended his teasing with a kiss to the left cheek of Loki's ass and then nudged his thighs even further apart to better accommodate his shoulders. He leaned in to watch the globes part for him, revealing a blushing line leading to a small pucker of skin, dusky and pink.

 

It was truly calling out to him. Thor lowered his head and dove in to the task with playful enthusiasm. As soon as his tongue darted out to tease that sensitive ring of muscle, he was rewarded with a sharp little yip from Loki. He could feel his thighs shaking, and watched as his entrance spasmed with anticipation of more.

 

“Thor- ooh!” Loki choked out, and Thor continued his gentle assault. He circled the soft, wrinkled flesh of Loki's hole with his tongue, wetting it enthusiastically, then pointing his tongue and slipping it in as deep as he could.

 

Loki's reaction to the experience had an odd effect on Thor: yes, naturally he was left helplessly hard by it, his cock yearning to be touched, to be buried in the same heat that he could feel around his tongue, but he was also unexpectedly disarmed by the innocence of Loki's surprised, and increasingly heated, response. It made his heart ache almost as badly as his cock.

 

The ache was a happy one, though. Thor's mind was already concocting the numerous pleasures he would show his young husband, and wondering at how many they would discover _together_. If the way Loki writhed and sighed at his ministrations was any indication, he would soon overcome his shyness and have no reservations about telling Thor exactly what he wanted.

 

Thor hummed against the heated skin underneath his mouth, licking insistently until Loki was thrashing, almost violently, underneath his hold. As much as he was enjoying himself (and Loki's passionate reactions), Thor told himself that they had an eternity to do this, and pulled off with a last sloppy kiss, taking a short moment to remember this: Loki's long legs splayed wide, the arch of his back, the way he clutched the the fur beneath them. With a satisfied look, he grabbed Loki by the hips and flipped him over.

 

Loki looked pleasantly dazed, his chest was flushed red and his cock was hard and wet at the tip, lying against his stomach. It was a fine cock, slender and long, but Thor's gaze was drawn to Loki's sac resting just underneath. His balls were smaller than he'd seen in his encounters with men, and well-defined, the skin over them stretched taut.

 

It was one thing to appreciate with his eyes, it was entirely another to touch. With a quick smirk, he lay down and kissed the base of Loki's cock before moving to the enticingly firm balls below and pulling one into his mouth.

 

“Thor,” Loki panted, sounding beautifully strained. Thor rolled his tongue over the smooth shape, then gave it a suck before pulling off.

 

“Yes, Loki?”

 

“ _Nghhh_.”

 

Thor couldn't help but chuckle. He'd never known Loki to be at a loss for words, but yet there he lay, clearly incapable of a coherent reply. It was precisely how Thor wanted him. He reached for the bottle of oil and opened it to slosh some onto his fingers, hoisting Loki's legs onto his shoulders and leaving a few oily trails over Loki's skin.

 

“Ready?” he asked, stroking his slicked fingers lightly along the cleft of Loki's ass.

 

Loki laughed breathlessly and nodded. “I was _ready_ on our wedding night.”

 

Thor smiled, circling the tip of his index finger over Loki's hole until he could feel it slowly relax. “I have little doubt that you _wanted_ to be, but no, you weren't.”

 

“I think I-aaaah!”

 

Loki's words trailed into a sharp gasp as the tip of Thor's finger breached him. Thor watched Loki, staring at the way his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as he took in the new sensation. Carefully, he twisted his finger this way and that, trying to find out what Loki would enjoy most.

 

“Good?” he asked hopefully.

 

“Yes. That is, I think so. Keep going. Deeper,” Loki said in between pants.

 

Thor obliged, pushing the finger in fully and crooking it towards Loki's belly. Loki whined beneath him, and when he noticed the tell-tale twitch of Loki's cock, he sped up, thrusting in and out until the motion was smooth and unhindered.

 

“Thor,” Loki cried, his hands reaching out for Thor.

 

“Another?” Thor teased.

 

“Oh, yes. _Please_.”

 

“Mmm,” Thor hummed against Loki's inner thigh, nuzzling the flawless, soft skin there. His cock was hard, but he was unwilling to hurry, cherishing every second of this. He was hungry for Loki's every reaction, each little pant, twitch and moan that he could wring from his young husband.

 

He withdrew his hand and drenched his fingers with oil anew, all the while fighting a grin as Loki none too gently poked him in the side of the head with his toe.. “Hurry up, _beloved._ ”

 

“These legs,” Thor jokingly complained, pressing a kiss to Loki's ankle even as he slid his slick fingers back into Loki. “They're everywhere.”

 

“Can't be held responsible.” Loki shrugged and then moaned when Thor's fingers prodded him deep.

 

Thor decided to put an end to the cheeky comments by closing his free hand around Loki's cock and giving it a long pull from base to tip. A few beads of fluid pearled at the head and Thor spread it around with his thumb, slicking the way, and stroked him until Loki was suitably speechless. Mindless of the growing mess underneath Loki, Thor poured more oil over his fingers and teased Loki's rim with three fingertips, enjoying the hot and slick feeling of the puckered skin before pushing in. Loki's eyes snapped open and he stiffened a little as a pained mewl escaped him.

 

Thor withdrew quickly. “I'm sorry.”

 

Loki pushed himself up on his elbow. He was breathing rapidly, his chest rising and falling visibly with the effort. They locked eyes for several seconds and then Loki shook his head. “It's fine... try again.”

 

“Loki-”

 

“I said it was fine!”

 

Thor raised his eyebrows at Loki's sharp tone, but didn't move.

 

Loki frowned at him and then huffed, flopping back to the floor. “Please,” he said, his tone much softer this time, “go ahead. If it hurts, I will tell you to stop.”

 

Thor nodded and slipped just two fingers in, working them gently even as Loki clenched around him. “There are other things we might do, Loki. Things that can be just as pleasurable.”

 

“Well, I want _this_ ,” Loki whined.

 

Thor had learned from experience that once Loki had set his mind to something, it was useless to attempt to dissuade him. He wisely said nothing, and concentrated on the task at hand. Above him, Loki was still making tiny hisses and grunts as though he was in pain, so he opted to try and distract him, bending down to take the tip of Loki's cock into his mouth and swirl his tongue around it, pumping it at the root with his free hand. His middle and index fingers remained crooked inside him, rubbing over the place that had made Loki buck and cry out earlier.

 

A few drops of spill leaked onto Thor's tongue; they tasted salty, and a little bitter, but Thor welcomed them happily as proof of Loki's pleasure.

 

As new as this all was, Thor already knew that he would develop quite an appetite for that.

 

As Loki's grunts melted down into low moans, Thor started pushing – ever so slowly – his ring finger into Loki along with the other two, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked Loki's cock. He'd hoped that the wet, sucking warmth around his prick would make up for the sting of being breached. But, if Loki had complaints, he voiced none, arching his back to push his cock deeper into Thor's mouth and reaching down to grab Thor's hair. If he could, Thor would smirk at Loki's growing insistence as his sharp little nails clawed in to Thor's scalp.

 

“Norns, Thor...” Loki whispered above him and Thor glanced upwards, his mouth sliding down on Loki's curved length at the same rhythm that his fingers were pushing inside. He propped himself up again, looking flushed and dishevelled, and staring down at Thor with dark, wide eyes. Thor drummed his fingers against the firm wall of Loki's prostate and swallowed his cock at the same time, watching as Loki's mouth opened in a moan and he dropped his head back onto the rug.

 

Thor let go of the base of Loki's cock, relying solely on his mouth to pleasure him, and reached up to stroke across Loki's stomach. He could not help but notice how tense his husband was, stomach muscles tight and chest heaving. It was not worrying, though; it was exhilarating. Thor doubled his efforts: tapping a slow, steady pulse with the fingers buried in Loki while he quickened the slide of his lips around Loki's cock and relentlessly teased the head with his tongue.

 

Loki's fingers tightened in his hair, nails digging so deep against his scalp that Thor wondered if he'd drawn blood, and he arched up with a loud moan. It was the only warning Thor received before the cock in his mouth stiffened and twitched and spilled in spurts. Thor pulled back, swallowing Loki's spend, and then licked his lips and grinned. His fingers slowing their thrusting, but never stopped. He could feel Loki's muscles tighten around him when he climaxed, but now they'd become looser than before, allowing Thor's fingers in with considerably more ease. Which was precisely what he had hoped for.

 

Loki sat up a little and looked at Thor. The dazed expression on his handsome face shifted into uncertainty and Thor blinked, suddenly feeling unsure in turn.

 

“I'm sorry- it was... I hadn't expected so much.”

 

Thor kissed Loki's hip. “What are you sorry for?”

 

“Spilling...?”

 

Thor smiled. He understood, but he couldn't resist the urge to tease Loki a little bit. “Why? Did it not feel good?”

 

“Thor,” Loki complained, rolling his eyes.

 

“Well?”

 

“Yes, damn you,” Loki hissed.

 

Thor waggled his eyebrows.“Are you tired? Do you want to stop?” He bit back a grin as he pushed his fingers inside with a little more insistence, making Loki groan when he grazed that treasured spot.

 

“No- _ah-_ and no.”

 

“See? Then there's nothing to worry over.,” Thor explained a more earnest tone seeping into his words.

 

Taking care not to jostle and hurt Loki, Thor pushed himself on one arm and manoeuvred his way over Loki again, twisting his fingers to keep them buried in his snug heat. They kissed for a long while until Thor's lips eventually strayed down to the tantalizing curve of Loki's throat and shoulders, mouthing hungrily. He was trying to hold the reins on his own desire, but it had become increasingly difficult; witnessing Loki's release had pushed him dangerously close to the edge of his ability to wait. It felt as though he'd been hard for hours.

 

“Thor, your fingers...” Loki whispered and Thor stilled.

 

“Are you all right? Does it hurt?”

 

“No, I meant...” Loki flushed even further. “They just feel so good... though I barely understand how.”

 

It was time for the blood to rise in Thor's cheeks, but not from embarrassment.

 

“Come,” he murmured into Loki's ear, giving it a parting bite, and carefully withdrew his fingers from Loki's body. “You should sit above me. It will be-”

 

“No!” Loki said firmly, his hands shooting up to grasp Thor's shoulders. “No, I...I want it- you- like this. I want you over me...”

 

That snapped a few more of the precious threads holding Thor's lust in check. He sat up, sparing a few seconds to reach for the bottle of oil to pour some over his cock, and spilled it everywhere in his haste. Loki's thighs fell wide apart, his ankles rubbing at Thor's hips before hooking them and urging him forward.

 

Thor drank in the sight -- Loki pale and slim on the dark pelt, his pretty face completely unguarded in its expression, open and wanting.

 

It was too much for Thor to take. He leaned forward, supporting his weight on one arm while he fisted his length. Loki tilted his hips without prompting, and the slicked head of Thor's cock slipped easily between the cheeks of Loki's ass, dragging over his hole, and they moaned together.

 

“Talk to me, Loki,” he managed to say as he started pushing in.

 

“Yes,” Loki whispered immediately. “Keep going- just,” he paused, biting at his lip, “ _slowly_.”

 

Thor nodded, giving nothing away of the warring instincts within him. Ironically, Loki – his husband and companion for the next _forever_ of their lives – had spurred them both. Part of him wanted nothing more than to sink deep into Loki and satisfy the storm brewing under his skin. But his regard for Loki, his need to protect and care for him, prevented him from being anything but gentle and patient, at least for now. He would proceed with caution, but it would not be easy.

 

He pushed deeper, meeting a lot of resistance and Loki winced. Thor paused and kissed him deeply, then murmured against his lips, “I know it will feel unnatural, but bear down for me, love. It will help.”

 

Loki nodded and complied, and Thor slid in, gasping. _Oh Norns_... _so tight_. Thor stilled, marvelling at the sensation of Loki surrounding him, like hot silk pulling him in.

 

Underneath him, Loki was panting, staring up at him.“Thor, I'm- _ooh_...”

 

“Oh, Loki,” Thor babbled in response, kissing all over his face and neck until Loki tugged at his hair and brought their mouths back together.

 

“Do it,” Loki pleaded once the kiss had broken. “ _Fuck me_.”

 

Biting his own lip hard, Thor steadied himself on his knees, smoothly pushing forward, then drawing back. He kept his pace slow but strong, snapping his hips on each pull backward and angling them just _so_ , trusting his instinct that the head of his cock would slide along the place inside Loki that had been such a source of pleasure.

 

His intuition was right. The look of astonishment on Loki's face was soon wiped with slack pleasure. His legs were tightly wound about Thor's waist, easing the meeting of their hips and once again Thor couldn't help but think feverishly about Loki's own utterly _good_ instincts. With experience, he would become more than a match for Thor's voracious sexual appetite.

 

“Thor, I'm so-” Loki gasped, swallowing down the rest of his words..

 

Thor glanced down between their heaving bodies to see Loki's stomach caved in slightly, barely moving. “Breathe,” Thor prompted, thrusting harder.

 

“I'm trying, but I'm so full- it's so...”

 

“ _Breathe_ ,” Thor repeated and finally Loki did, moaning his breaths against Thor's cheek.

 

Satisfied, Thor dropped lower, his chest sliding against Loki's and pushed in deep, letting his head fall into the crook of Loki's neck and allowed himself to savour the utter pleasure of driving into him, the tight muscles of Loki's rim dragging him deeper. Loki had let go of Thor's hair and circled his shoulders with his arms instead, pulling him as close as possible.

 

“Yes!” Loki cried out after Thor's hips stuttered and he fucked in with more force than he'd intended.

 

“Oh my,” Thor growled and drove forward, trying to pull back just enough so he could sneak an arm between them and grasp Loki's cock. He found it half hard and began to stroke, only to have Loki push his hand away.

 

“No- I just want to feel _you_.”

 

Thor wasn't going to argue. Instead he ran his hands over Loki's chest, fingers catching on his nipples. Loki arched at the fleeting contact, and Thor realized he'd neglected that particular part of his husband's anatomy.

 

A most grievous error that needed to be remedied. _Immediately._

 

So Thor went to work, pinching and kneading the tiny nips until Loki was bucking hard against him and his mouth was spilling the most beautiful noises.

 

“Thor, please...”

 

“Please what?” Thor prompted smugly, his hips never slowing their smooth thrusting. “Please stop or please keep going?” He punctuated the question with a not-so-gentle tweak to one of Loki's hardened nipples.

 

“I don't know,” Loki whined, catching Thor's wrist in both hands and holding it still, neither encouraging or discouraging Thor's current course.

 

“Then perhaps I can help you decide. Stroke yourself,” Thor told him. He knew from personal experience the dizzying effect nipple stimulation could have on one's body, and he had an idea on how to make it perfect.

 

Loki obeyed, letting go of Thor and pushing his hand between them. Thor watched his face, and could pinpoint the exact moment Loki closed his fist around his own cock -- his lashes fluttered and his lips parted just barely, but Thor saw it... and he enjoyed it very much. It struck him again just how _handsome_ his husband was, and it gave Thor so much pleasure – almost as much as the tightness that was drawing his cock in – to watch his young face so open and expressive, reflecting pleasure and happiness. “Doesn't that feel good?” he purred near Loki's ear.

 

“Oh yes,” Loki moaned.

 

Thor pushed in faster, his own eyes closing briefly as heat spread through him, from the root of his cock into his loins. “Keep going, sweetness, I want to see you spill again.”

 

“Do not call me that,” Loki said, his voice breathy and wet, even as his hand sped up between them. Thor pinched his nipple.

 

“Why not, love? Darling?”

 

“ _Thor_ ,” Loki whined, a rosy blush colouring his cheeks. Thor laughed, finally abandoning his torment of Loki's chest and cupped his face in one hand, tilting it up to press kisses all over before returning, with certainty, to Loki's mouth.

 

Thor could feel his control slipping away and he hitched Loki's knees higher. They both groaned at the change in angle; Thor stretched Loki even wider, and allowed him to plunge that much deeper. He reached down to wrap his hand over Loki's to guide his strokes, but Loki wiggled his own free and arched his hips as if offering himself up to Thor, putting his pleasure, quite literally, into Thor's hands. Then Loki's palms were sliding over Thor's straining biceps, one with holding almost his entire weight above Loki, the other with the speed of his strokes.

 

“Yes, Thor!” Loki cried out, his fingers digging into Thor's skin, arcing and then stilling just before wet warmth spurted all over Thor's clenching fist.

 

With a haste that almost shamed him, Thor had barely outlasted the pulses of Loki's climax before giving in to his own. He let go entirely, rolling more firmly over Loki and he drove in; it occurred to him, dimly, that he'd thruster harder than he perhaps should have, but judging by the steady chant of _Thor_ and _yes_ filling his ears, Loki hardly minded. Thor lost himself in it, burrowing his face in Loki's neck again and breathing him in, the snap of his hips coming so hard and so fast that it couldn't be considered anything but _fucking_ ,and the pressure was rising, Loki's nails were scratching him-

 

Thor groaned and with one last thrust, he spilled inside Loki in long pulses that shook through him, intense and hot.

 

“Thor, oh Norns, Thor...” Loki wheezed underneath him. He sounded winded, but not at all unhappy.

 

Thor longed to just envelop him in a tight hug, to relax down onto the welcoming body under him, but good sense had not abandoned him just yet. He carefully eased out of Loki before heaving himself to the side, pulling Loki close to him. “Are you well?”

 

Loki lowered his knees gingerly and sighed into Thor's damp shoulder. “I think so...” he said faintly, his hand drifting to pet Thor's stomach.

 

“You will almost certainly be a little sore. I'm sorry,” Thor kissed Loki's cheek. “There is some healing salve if it's too bad.”

 

Loki giggled. “Oh, you prepared for this, did you?”

 

Thor suspected that Loki was teasing him, but it gave him the chance to clear up something more serious.. “Of course I did. Surely you must know it was never a lack of desire that kept me from touching you.”

 

Loki's smile faltered, but only a little. “Well...”

 

“You said there were times that you had been afraid of me. I was afraid too, Loki. Afraid of how lovely you were. Of the way you insisted on teasing me... coming naked to our bed, to name an example.”

 

Loki laughed delightedly. “That was fun, in the beginning. The lack of encouragement soured it a bit, though.”

 

Thor searched for an answer. He opened his mouth to speak and Loki held up his hand.

 

“But...” he continued, then swallowed audibly. “Having finally experienced _this_... I don't want to, but I must say you were probably right. You are no longer a stranger to me, Thor. You are my... well, you are very dear to me. And this was...” He trailed off, nibbling on his pretty bottom lip again.

 

Thor pulled Loki tighter to himself and kissed his cheek. “You cannot imagine being so vulnerable with a stranger... to experience this kind of intimacy. The potential dangers, of being wounded or treated harshly,” he offered. “It was too great a risk.”

 

“Yes,” Loki mumbled.

 

Thor stroked his back.“Enough of this,” he declared finally, placing another kiss at Loki's temple. “We are here now.”

 

“Yes, we are,” Loki agreed. “We are here, and we are- or at least I am, filthy. I think I'm... leaking.”

 

Thor laughed heartily. “Indeed. We have disgraced this poor animal's memory.”

 

It was true, the pelt underneath them was soaked and matted with sweat and oil and... other things.

 

Thor was reminded of the first time Loki climaxed that night, of being buried face first between his tight with his tongue firmly lodged in his--

 

“May I ask you something,” he said suddenly.

 

Loki twisted a little to look up at Thor. “Hmm?”

 

“Earlier tonight, when you asked me to use my tongue...where did you learn about that? It's not exactly a common suggestion for someone who has never been intimate before.”

 

Loki winked. “You would be amazed at the things you can learn when you spend some time in the library, husband.”

 

“Hmm. Then I will endeavour to visit there more often. But for now...” Thor clambered to his feet and offered a hand to Loki. “Come. There is an amazing tub waiting upstairs. Large enough for both of us.”

 

Loki nodded, slipping his hand into Thor's. “And after, the balm.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Which you will administer personally.”

 

Thor grinned. “Of course.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading, kudos-ing, bookmarking, subscribing and commenting. Every single one of these means a lot.
> 
> Onto the epilogue!


	14. Epilogue

Thor's arms encircled him from behind lightly, and for a moment they stood on the balcony, taking in the picturesque view. Late fall had become his favourite of Asgard's seasons; the temperature drop brought with it the crispness in the air and clouds heavy with the promise of early snow. Pleasant reminders of Jotunheim.

 

“Alright?”

 

Loki nodded, looking out into the fading light. The usually golden city took on a dark bronze hue in the growing darkness, painted cold by the overcast sky.

 

His mother, Queen Farbauti, had left Asgard shortly prior, concluding her first visit since Thor and Loki were married.

 

“Your parents are faring well,” Thor said when Loki wasn't forthcoming. Seeing her had left him in a pensive mood, but he was still glad for Thor's presence, as he was glad for the warmth of his husband's body pressed to his back.

 

“I know they are, dear. You've told me everything,” Loki chuckled.

 

“That's politics,” Thor corrected. “Now you've heard it from her.”

 

The mention of _politics_ brought a wide smile to Loki's face. Ever since he'd started attending council meetings with Thor and participating in other matters of state, he'd made a game of teasing Thor about the face he put forward for those occasions. They both knew it was necessary of course, but Thor appreciated the reminder that there was more to him than being a king.

 

Most of the time Loki took great delight in parroting the things Thor said in a deep, mocking voice, putting ridiculous emphasis on certain words or acting out citizens' pleas. Every now and then, however, it would take a more...pleasurable turn.

 

* * *

 

“ _Oh, my King,” Loki sighed in a sultry tone, sitting on the edge of Thor's desk and leaning back, forearm pressed dramatically to his forehead. “Trouble has befallen me.”_

 

_Thor stared at him for a second before putting his quill down slowly and straightening in his chair. Loki gave him a quick wink._

 

“ _What ails you, my loyal subject?”_

 

“ _There is something I miss terribly, my King. It is as though a part of me is gone.”_

 

“ _Is that so?” Thor prompted, his voice rumbling deep even though the sparkle in his eyes told Loki he was_ this _close to cracking a smile. “And are you certain this is a matter worthy of my time?”_

 

 _Loki pursed his lips for a second, his tone growing a bit more sober. “Why wouldn't it be? Do you suspect your subjects sometimes bring you matters of no importance only to put themselves in your_ glorious _presence?”_

 

_Thor made a scandalized face. “No. Surely they wouldn't.”_

 

“ _And neither would I.” Loki was back at the game in full force, batting his eyelashes at Thor and lowering himself closer to the desk, arching to show off his neck. “I am in desperate need of you.”_

 

“ _You are in desperate need of my_ help, _you mean,” Thor corrected._

 

“ _No, of you. A very specific part of you, that is. I am certain I shall perish if I do not acquire it.”_

 

“ _And how do you intend on inquiring this...most desperately needed part of me?”_

 

“ _Why, my King, I hunger for it, and so I need it in my mouth.”_

 

* * *

 

That had been a good night, Loki recalled. And there had been many others just as good, if not better.

 

He brushed his thumb across the back of Thor's hand that was curled at his waist and brought his thoughts back to present. It was not all teasing and sex at inappropriate places, though. Loki learned many things about the art of state and, despite loving the more reckless, wild side of his husband, he had to admire the patience Thor groomed himself to have. He also became privy to many matters of the other realms that Thor, or Heimdall at his behest, often watched. And Jotunheim was no exception.

 

“It's... odd. I'd never seen my homeland with the Casket. I didn't realize what we were missing. It's like I made a sacrifice even greater than I imagined-” He could feel Thor tensing behind him and hurried to clarify, squeezing Thor's wrist for assurance, “even though it doesn't feel like I lost anything at all.”

 

He turned, hugging Thor's waist and nuzzling his neck. “It quite seems like I gained more than possible.”

 

Thor held him tightly for a long moment before pulling back just the tiniest bit to kiss him. Loki closed his eyes and hummed when he felt Thor cup the back of his neck firmly. It was a touch that made him go weak in the knees every time.

 

He entertained the notion of staying there on the balcony and asking Thor to call a storm. Perhaps he could bend over the railing, let the rain fall on him while Thor-

 

“I love you.”

 

Thor's whispered words made his eyes snap open, all thoughts wiped clean from his mind for a second. It shouldn't really be a surprise. They were so happy and, Norns, Loki felt the same way, but it still caught him off guard.

 

The moment felt surreal. The fading light made the world smooth somehow, intangible, and even without his eyes playing tricks on him, Loki was deep in swirling thoughts and memories. He blinked, then blinked some more and brought his hands up to caress Thor's face, feeling its familiar curves, the well-loved scratch of his beard, the softness of his lips and eyelids...

 

Thor's bright eyes were the only thing standing out in the fleeting greyness of the world and Loki looked at him until his feet felt steady once more.

 

“And I you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Never underestimate my ability to be horrifically sappy.
> 
> I'm at [thorduna.tumblr.com](http://thorduna.tumblr.com), come to talk to me and watch what writing mess will I get myself into next.


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